


Don't Ruin This On Me

by Nyresnuger



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, bros in love, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyresnuger/pseuds/Nyresnuger
Summary: The universe itself - along with every one of his friends and coworkers - seems to be trying to tell Gabriel to do something about his whole 'pining for his sweet, handsome roommate'-situation.He's digging his heels in until he isn't
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 17
Kudos: 98





	Don't Ruin This On Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, first of all thank you all so much for your patience! Happy spooky month, I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while.
> 
> Second of all, a bit of background. A while back I asked for prompts for something (and I quote) 'horny and slightly dumb'. Enter the splendid [Karmelion](%E2%80%9D) (AO3)/[staygoldnimoy](%E2%80%9D) (tumblr) with the idea to write some R76 based on [this lovely reddit post](%E2%80%9D)
> 
> I gauged it to end up at around 2- maybe 5k words. Then it grew a mind of its own and now here we are. Their ages are all over the place, please don't mind it.
> 
> I hope you like it! It's very much a labor of love and I grew quite fond of this version of a modern universe! Thank you so, so much to Karmelion for starting this (and letting me whine in their inbox about the size it had grown to)
> 
> A last note and I promise I'll stop: This fic contains some imagery from the garden of eden/the story of the fall of man. This is not meant to imply that romantic attraction (and especially not gay male romantic attraction) is in any way 'a sin'. I am a gay man who was active in fandom when that way of speaking about m/m ships was quite common and it kind of fucked me up. If anything, this is a way to work through my own complicated feelings of queerness. I hope you understand
> 
> I love you all, hope you like this!

That Jack would eventually fall has been a joke for months.

In truth it has been for the both of them. Jack calls Gabriel’s bike a death trap, Gabe says someone out there must hate Jack’s guts enough to sever one of the safety ropes while he’s on a climb. If Ana’s over, she’ll add that he probably doesn’t need the help to injure himself up there. She has fixed his busted knuckles enough times Jack doesn’t even protest.

Gabe still isn’t ready when it happens.

“Don’t freak out, but they say he’ll probably be here for a few days,” Lúcio sounds a lot more chipper over the phone than you’d assume of someone who’s just seen a friend take a 10 feet tumble from a climbing wall.

“I am not _freaking out_!” he hisses back.

Jesse looks up from across the table, pausing in the middle of a bite to stare inquisitively. Gabe waves him off with a low huff. Jesse’s eyebrows rise and he looks like he’s about to openly ask. Gabriel swears under his breath, gets up to grab his jacket quickly enough to send the chair skidding out under him.

Lúcio apparently reads his mind. Or maybe he just hears the rustle of fabric. “You don’t need to come rushing.”

“But-“

“He’s in surgery, messed up his knee pretty bad. He won’t wake up in a couple hours. I called Ana; she’ll drop by.”

Gabriel’s face scrunches up. “Stop sounding so casual about it.”

Lúcio snorts over the line. “You think I haven’t seen people fall before? He’s fine Gabe, just landed a little weird. Go make sure Jesse doesn’t explode from curiosity.”’

He sighs, defeated. “Okay, tell me if anything happens.”

“Yessir,” the smirk is heavy in his tone. Gabe can vividly imagine the lax salute that must accompany it. He sits back down, though his left leg bounces restlessly still.

“Oh, and Gabe?” Lúcio’s tone shifts slightly. Becomes a little lighter and infinitely more mischievous. “when he wakes up, you better talk to him.”

“Nope.” 

“Come on, it would be roman-“

“Goodbye.”

Gabe ends the phone call with a click, cutting off Lúcio’s affronted squawking.

“You okay there, boss?” Jesse pulls him back to the present. He’s waving a fork curiously at Gabe, one eyebrow raised and the slightest hint of genuine worry swirling in his eyes

“I ain’t the boss of you.”

Jesse rolls his eyes, already stuffing his lunch back in his backpack and eyeing the clock. “Sure. Then what’s happening?”

Gabe’s nose scrunches up again. He steals a glance at his own phone. His class starts in five minutes, looks like he’ll be eating on his way there.

“Jack,” he settles for mumbling, standing up and gathering the notes scattered over the table. Jesse follows the movement, his eyes growing huge with concern. Gabe’s sure the kid will become a marvelous teacher someday, but he’s also genuinely astounded some bastard twelve-year-old haven’t taken advantage of how much he wears his heart on his sleeve yet.

“He alright?” Jesse stumbles after him through the door from the teacher’s lounge.

Gabe checks over his shoulder down the hall before he explains. “Dumbass fell, broke his knee or something.”

Jesse winces sympathetically. On some level Gabe’s mildly terrified he at some point didn’t have to specify ‘ _Jack, my roommate who does rock climbing’_ anymore. He doesn’t think he talks that much about Jack. Not to his colleagues like Jesse at least and yet here they are. Jesse doesn’t tease him, doesn’t ruefully ask when the confession will be like Lúcio does, but Gabe has noticed his eyes going soft when Gabriel apparently says something Ana would classify as _‘a little cutesy, don’t you think?’_.

He’s surrounded by damn romantic fools, looking for some grand romance unfolding before their eyes and apparently all blind to the fact that Gabe and Jack are _friends_.

Jack’s the best thing in his life, sure. His rock and his safe place and the stupidest, most stubborn idiot he’s ever met. They _work_ together, like they were meant to inhabit each other’s space. Jack’s watched every triumph and defeat of his life since he was eighteen. Held him through more break ups and battered dreams than anyone else. He’s the best friend Gabe could ever dream of.

It’s almost weird how it took Gabe ten years and some clever introspection from Ana to realize he’s got it bad for the guy.

Still, there’s no way Gabriel’s risking what they have.

He imagines Jack falling. His strong fingers slipping, right at the top, one sure hand stretched out to fasten the rope. The air opening below him to swallow him whole.

He draws in a hissing breath, turns the corner onto the hallway with his classroom. A group of kids have already gathered outside the door, clearly as stoked to learn history as he is to teach it right now.

Jesse pads him absentmindedly on the shoulder before continuing to the class he’s subbing in for Ogundimu in. “I hope he turns out alright.”

Gabe grunts distantly as the only response.

Jamison yells something incoherent at him while he unlocks the door. It’s probably a joke. He settles for grinning awkwardly at it and waving it off. He never finds out if it’s the appropriate response, Olivia scoffs exaggeratedly and Jamison gets caught up squawking at her instead. He’s pretty sure Jesse would scoff at him for not resolving the conflict properly, but he trusts Olivia to handle any physical or intellectual altercation fine without his help.

He feels off through the entire rest of the day. Logically, he knows everything is fine. Knows his obligation is to these kids. It doesn’t erase the fact that it feels like he’s betraying Jack by being here, droning on about the Roman empire and not by his side. The feeling simmers in him throughout the day. His answers feel stilted and he keeps glancing at the clock, ready to call Ana and get an update as soon as he’s able. He feels his phone buzz against his thigh twice, and his fingers itches to check.

He’s helped by Brigitte firing a paper airplane directly into the back of Hana’s head while he’s turned away. He decides to let them go ten minutes early when he realizes the concentration in the room has been thoroughly broken. Oliva is already on her phone, Jamison’s unapologetically eating lunch.

“You know, there’s better ways to get to talk to her?” he muses at Brig when he’s gotten the actual scolding out of the way and most of her classmates have shuffled out.

She grimaces, a slightly defiant twitch at her lips, “I wasn’t aiming for her.” Her freckled arms cross over her chest. He laughs softly, hardly any more than a breath rushing out.

She looks up at him, one shoulder rising in a faint shrug. “I wanted to show Genji the plane, the other ones were good, but I’ve changed the wing design for this one.” Her hands fall by her side, gesturing faintly like she can’t contain the movement. Her eyes shine glassy.

He snorts again.

“You know, I appreciate you being an engineering genius and all that but would appreciate if you didn’t- wait, the other ones?”

She looks at him with wide eyes, her mouth opening apologetically, the cogs clearly turning. “Yeah,” her hands flail, then her shoulders slump, “we’re workshopping how to make them silent and fast.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, her cheeks already burning bright red.

“Not to give you tactical advice, but maybe don’t tell _me_ that.”

For a second, she looks absolutely terrified, then she catches the soft smile tagged onto the sentence. She laughs, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Her freckles still stand out like brown stars against her blush, but she looks more relaxed.

She nods a few times, tilts her head to meet his eyes directly. “I’m sorry, I meant to say that I’m definitely not crafting airplanes in your classes Mr. Reyes.” She smiles blindingly, crooked front teeth on display. He can’t help smiling back.

“Good to hear kid,” he gets up and starts stuffing his papers into his bag, “see you tomorrow.”

She makes a low, affirming sound, gathering her stuff and slinking out the door with a lax, salute-like wave. Gabe hears the excited, half whispered squeaking when she meets Genji and Hana waiting for her right outside.

He smiles to himself, lingers for long enough for them to leave down the hallway. His phone beeps again and he juggles it out of a pocket. The unread messages are all from Ana.

 _‘He’s fine, stop worrying’_ followed by another ‘ _I’ve got it under control’._ Attached is a picture of Ana in full doctor’s garb, smiling sharply and holding up a peace sign in front of an x-ray of a leg. Gabriel might be the only one in his close group of friends who isn’t in the medical field, but he thinks he’s still qualified to say that’s not how the inside of a knee should look.

He winces, scrolls to the newest message. _‘He said you have to feed the snakes’_.

His eyebrows unwillingly rise. It’s nice to know Jack’s awake again, but the knowledge he’ll have to go home and take care of their pets before he can rush there stings. He had completely forgotten today was feeding day.

His finger lingers over the button, then he scoffs and presses call. Ana answers on the second ring.

“He’s fine, come see him tomorrow,” her voice is dry, a slight chuckle dancing along the edges of it.

He sighs, knows it won’t work but tries anyway: “but-“

“Go home and feed your creatures. He’ll be here for three days at least, managed to land as badly as possible. Just go home, Gabe,” she snorts a short little laugh, “I think he’d be mad at you if you don’t. Came in with a leg pointing the wrong way and still wouldn’t let them sedate him before he’d made sure I’d tell you to take care of the snakes.”

He snorts right back, “think he loves them more than both of us.”

She hums her agreement, “God knows what he sees in them.”

He nods to himself, slinging his bag over one shoulder and leaving the building. “See you tomorrow then?”

“I’d hope so- got to run.” She ends the call without fanfare.

\----

Gabriel steps into their apartment and is immediately emotional about their shared space. He blames his ma for passing on the sentimental gene.

“Goddamn,” he mumbles and toes off his boots. The bag hits the floor with a low thud. It’s weird to not see Jack’s climbing gear haphazardly bundled up against the wall besides it. The other part of the joke has always been that the climbing would get to him somehow, sooner or later. Either he’d take a tumble from the wall itself, or one of them would stumble in the rope on their way out.

Today was Jack’s dinner day too. He’s an objectively horrible cook despite Gabe’s best efforts over the years, and yet there’s something comforting about coming home to him, fresh out of a shower and working on _something_ that only smells vaguely appetizing because onions were fried along the way.

He decides to order food. He has to read through the last of the essays from last week too. He can’t imagine a cheerier task than correcting minor mistakes while eating Thai food from the place down the street and listening to the TV buzzing softly.

But first, the snakes.

Gabe has tried reasoning that the rigid feeding schedule makes no sense for creatures adapted to eating whenever food presents itself, not on a set timer, but Jack is nothing if not stubborn. Stubborn and too good at order and plans for his own good. And he loves those snakes enough for Gabriel to indulge him.

Most people don’t believe them when they say the snakes belong to Jack. They fit a lot better into Gabe’s aesthetic, he must admit, and he has used pictures of them to win points with his students. But they’re Jack’s.

He thaws rats for them and uses the time to call after food. If Jack’s insisting on jumping off climbing walls to get out of eating dinner with him he’ll do it with the snakes instead.

They stir in each of their terrarium when he starts fuzzing around them. Aya is, as always, the most forthcoming, stretching out from under a piece of bark to watch with her clever eyes. José stays put in the terrarium beside her.

They’re both blood pythons and the name had gotten Gabriel on board if nothing else. Jack had teased him about loving the drama and aesthetic and not the actual animal, while he held Aya’s slender front end and let her heavy tail slouch in Gabe’s lap.

He had to admit she was a formidable animal, even more so now at almost a foot longer than when he met her. Still didn’t squash his sister’s voice in his head, teasing him for settling down with, first of all, some white boy and now also a slithering beast.

He had to do three things when she went on that spiel: defend himself against ‘ _settling down’_ , agree to Jack’s almost painful whiteness and activate the little brother bastard deep inside enough that he eventually convinced Jack to add a second snake to their home.

José was glorious. Jack chose the breeder, paid for it and technically owns him, but Gabe picked him out and named him.

There’d been a lot of jokes about biblical alluring and the drama of an Archangel led into ruin by a snake. He’d scoffed. Bringing the baby snake into their home and watching Jack’s face light up in childish glee had felt a lot more like coming home than falling.

Aya takes her food without fuzz. Gabe coos a ‘ _there you go girl’_ at her, knowing full well snakes don’t have ears. She deserves the praise even if it bounces off her skin unheard.

José is a little more hesitant, but he does slinker forward eventually to feed. Gabe is still damn proud of that snake. His scales shine a deep red.

‘ _See, that’s a proper_ blood _python_ ,’ he’d told Jack when he picked him from among his brighter, more orange siblings. He’d gotten a giggled _‘you fucking drama kid’_ for his troubles, but he stands by the decision still. Aya might be big and impressive and bright, but José is the prettiest snake Gabe’s ever seen.

It’s weird. He really didn’t expect to end up with a love for snakes of all things. He hadn’t expected that out of his life in general and he definitely wouldn’t have pegged Jack as a snake guy either.

They got entangled in each other in college and then never fully untangled. They weren’t even roommates back then, it just seemed like the natural progression when they realized they’d both be in the same area.

It started as friendship that grew into a life. Into movie nights and petty arguments about the dishes and more and more of Gabe’s hoodies becoming our hoodies and two snakes that went from _my friend’s_ to _our_ and then to _my_ when Gabe shows pictures to kids. Grew into a shoulder to fall asleep on after a long day and the expectation of lightly burned food on the days Jack doesn’t work nights.

Somewhere along the way it grew into something warm and slightly aching Gabriel carries with him on the left side of his chest and marked into his fingertips.

He can’t believe he’s a grown man secretly pining for his best friend.

He slides the enclosure shut with a sigh. “There you go Jack.”

His food arrives and he fishes the essays out of his bag. There’s a lot more than he remembered. Looks like he won’t be carrying out the defiant plan he’d been brewing in the back of his skull of going to the hospital anyway later.

Ana sends him a last update before she heads home for the night. It’s another selfie, though she’s out of her uniform and back in a dusty blue sweater for this one. Jack’s holding up a groggy thumbs up from his place in the hospital bed over her shoulder. Gabe snorts softly.

The lights from the terrariums glow softly before they shut off for the night. The pile of essays slowly dwindles in front of him. He checks his schedule for tomorrow and decides on a whim to become religious when he realizes he has no afternoon classes.

\----

Jack’s sitting up with his leg in a cast when Gabe enters. His hair looks weird, smushed against the side of his head and standing right up on the other side. It’s almost rude no one has told him, but Gabe has a sneaking suspicion Ana might have helped with that one.

It’s weird, seeing him like that. Jack might look tired enough to keel over and die when he comes home from a 24 hour shift some days, but he’s infamous for always moving, feet tapping and hands flighty. His fingers bounce against the unbroken leg.

“Hey.”

Jack’s head whips up. Apparently, he hadn’t heard him enter. The heart monitor beeps softly. Jack’s eyes shift to it, his brows drawing close for a split second before he’s looking back at Gabe and smiling that crooked grin of his.

“You okay there?” one of Gabe’s eyebrows lifts. “Didn’t bring flowers, sorry.”

Jack laughs softly, wincing when he accidentally jostles the leg. “Am I going to have to injure myself again for some roses?”

“Perhaps just find new friends.”

Jack snorts, his head bopping softly in a nod. His lips part when he looks up at Gabe again, but Gabriel cuts him off before he says even the first word.

“Yes, I did feed your goddamn snakes.”

Jack rolls his eyes, flopping back against the pillow. “I have to keep you in check you know?”

“Clearly, you’re obviously the most responsible of us.” He gestures vaguely at the entire scene.

“Oh, shut up,” he swats a pillow playfully at Gabe as he approaches. “This,” he gestures to the broken leg, “is hardly a scratch. And being able to handle injury is a big part of responsibility.”

Gabe snorts a _‘sure’_ before sitting down on the bed next to him. His hand skims over the side of Jack’s arm. Instantly the beeping from the heart monitor grows just a tad quicker. Jack’s face is painted in confusion.

“Weird,” Jack’s voice sounds strange, like it’s flatter than usual. His mouth doesn’t close fully. When he looks up at Gabe again and grins there’s something slightly forced to it. Like he’s steeling himself for the eye contact. His heartbeat thuds away, strong and alive under the mechanical beeping, slightly elevated but not fast enough to be alarming.

Gabe looks at him, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Jack shakes his head lightly, regains his posture though something slightly panicked linger in his sky-blue eyes.

“Guess it’s just strenuous to look at your ugly mug,” he grins, elbowing Gabriel lightly in the side. He answers by pushing back, a light tap to the shoulder.

“Hey! I’m a dying man!” Jack sputters, dramatically letting himself fall back. Gabe snorts.

“Here I thought it was just a scratch.”

“You just reopened the wound, think I need surgery or the whole thing might rot off.”

“I’ll bring some flowers tomorrow then.”

It’s Jack’s turn to snort disbelievingly. “They’d have to be really good, you just amputated my leg.” His smile morphs from boyishly charming to open and soft, his head tips to the side, awaiting another sly reply.

The affection buzzes like something heavy and alive in Gabe’s hands.

“Besides,” Jack continues and for once doesn’t try to hold it over Gabe that he got the last word (it doesn’t happen often), “I hope they’re going to send me home tonight, perhaps you won’t even get the chance.” He smiles, his eyes almost closing with it. His freckles aren’t apparent yet, just the faintest trace. It’ll be a couple months before the sun starts painting him speckled.

“You wouldn’t have appreciated it anyway,” Gabe chuckles. He moves slightly on the bed. Their shoulders bump and Gabriel almost doesn’t comprehend it when the heart monitors steady beeping once again stutters and speeds up.

He had no idea the devices were that sensitive or the human body so receptive to seemingly very minor disturbances.

Jack is blushing for some reason, his eyes dart slightly, but he laughs till his eyes crinkle all the way shut when Gabriel retells the day’s events.

\----

They don’t let him go that night.

It sounds suspiciously like Dr. Ziegler never even suggested it would be a possibility. It would be somewhat in character for Jack to assume he’d be able to charm his way out of a hospital with a shattered knee.

“Come on Jack, would you let a patient out if they looked like that?” Angela gestures at his leg.

“I don’t know,” he wiggles the offending body part slightly for show, apparently instantly regretting when his face scrunches up in a wince. “I just drop them off here, what do I know?”

She pads him on the shoulder with mechanical precision. Gabriel has met Doctor Angela Ziegler exactly twice before and heard uncountable stories about the apparently never-ending competence of this woman since Jack became a licensed paramedic and started working with her. She lives up to all of them.

She looked Gabriel over when she first entered, smiled a smile somewhere between genuinely warm and professionally detached and called him by his full name. She carries herself with a quiet, graceful sternness and the precise, melodic Germanic edge to her voice leaves no room for debate.

He has little trouble imagining this woman standing at the ready in the emergency room more frequently than should be healthy for one person.

He sees why Jack likes her.

She sighs. Jack smiles up at her. She sighs again and turns to Gabriel.

“I’m very sorry, but I’m not letting him out today.”

Jack dramatically rolls his eyes behind her, where he should be absolutely out of her line of sight. She whacks him automatically on the shoulder with a stack of papers she’s holding. He snorts and raises his hands in surrender.

Gabe can’t hold back the smile.

“I trust your judgement dr. Ziegler,” he smiles. Jack meets his eyes and shakes his head in pretend affront. He looks down for a second before catching Gabe’s eyes again. For a second his head wavers almost apologetically, like he didn’t expect Gabe to still be looking at him. His tongue darts out to skim across his lip and Gabe is suddenly very aware of the low beeping from the heart monitor.

“Maybe we can discharge him tomorrow,” Angela cuts the thought in half. She’s nodding to herself and Gabriel finds himself nodding back on instinct.

“See you then, Jack,” he does a short salute before he turns to leave. Angela smiles her weird soft smile. The door closes after him and almost cuts off Jack’s closing remark:

“See you, don’t forget my flowers!”

He considers going back in to say something clever about it but supposes a man has earned a win when his knee is currently out of function.

\----

“Thank you, my friend!” Reinhardt’s voice is absolutely booming when he accepts the salt. Ana pads him good naturedly on the arm, the crow’s feet by her eyes deepening.

Gabriel winces dramatically. “Why’s he here again?”

She _tsk_ ’s at him, though Reinhardt himself answers with a boisterous chuckle.

“To keep you company,” Ana points her fork at him. “Can’t have you get all lonely while lover-boy’s in the hospital.”

He rolls his eyes at the nickname but let’s it go; he lost that fight years ago. “You’re mooching off my cooking and you know it.” He points right back at her with his own fork. She shrugs coquettishly, shakes her head so the thick braid whips over her shoulder. It’s already shot through with grey. He has a sneaking suspicion she’ll be all steely grey before she hits forty-five. So will Jack, if he isn’t much mistaken.

Rein chuckles heartily at the accusation. His blue eyes glitter underneath the heavy brows. Lúcio isn’t nearly as graceful.

“You’d die without us.” He speaks around a bite of food. Gabriel can feel the swoosh from his legs dangling under the table. He’s apparently infected with the same uncontainable energy as Jack: legs bouncing, fingers twirling the fork around.

Gabe rolls his eyes. “You do know he isn’t home half of the time, right?”

All three of them _hmm_ in unison.

He huffs and goes back to eating. He must admit it is nice having them here. Rein is loud and Lúcio’s a human whirlwind, but his resistance is mostly for show.

It certainly isn’t uncommon for him to see nothing of Jack for multiple days, but the knowledge that his knee is apparently refusing to heal entirely to Dr. Ziegler’s wanting is coloring his mood in some shade of dark blue. Usually he’d come home to the subtle but undeniable signs of Jack having been around, however briefly. Three days without a slight shuffling of the keys on the counter and a slowly draining food supply is throwing him for more of a loop than he thought it would.

He’s pretty sure Ana’s psychic when it comes to his mood. He’s barely admitted to himself how the minor worry in the back of his skull is wearing on him before she’s there in his doorway – fresh from work and hair unruly from the early spring winds – with a heavy grocery bag in one hand and their mutual friends standing at her back.

“Maybe we just wanted to see you?” Lúcio supplies with a smirk and a shrug.

“Please,” Ana shoots back, the lines of her shoulders rising with contained laughter. “This is basically patient care.” Her dark eyes flash up to meet Gabriel’s and he almost starts huffing through a half-hearted assurance he doesn’t need the company.

Lúcio snorts. “Speaking of patient care, anyone know how he’s doing?” he pipes in before Gabriel gets the chance. He’s leaning back in his chair now. If Rein wasn’t still eating, he’d swing his feet up on the table.

“Worse than he tries to tell us,” Reinhardt gestures at Gabriel like he’s actively worse looking than usually.

“Not him, Rein,” Lúcio smiles blindingly, tapping one hand against his knee with an eyebrow raised.

Reinhard makes what’s probably meant to be a low, slightly embarrassed _oh_ had he been a man of a normal volume. He shakes his head slightly.

“He’s fine,” Ana supplies after a second. “Think you can expect him back tomorrow unless he’s managed to piss Angela off.” She’s looking up at Gabe with her clever dark eyes. He nods thoughtfully, pushing his plate away from himself.

He hums noncommittally as a response.

Ziegler hadn’t been in the room when he visited Jack for the second time. He’d seemed much, much better; more awake and most of the bruises from the fall were all the way gone. And yet he’d still winced and stuttered every time he accidentally disturbed the leg, and his heartbeat was still monitored. The beeps slightly faster when Gabe popped his head in. He hadn’t brought flowers. Jack pressed their shoulders together to shove him playfully, the beeping stuttered and sped up when the contact lingered.

It has rummaged around in Gabriel’s skull like some insistent critter searching for food. He doesn’t _want_ to assign it any meaning. Not any other than the human body being an impressive and responsive machine. It’s too much like something he’d tease Jack with – assigning inherent significance to the small things.

He’d call him a hopeless romantic and probably also a dumbass and ruffle up his hair like they’re children. And Jack would smile that boyish, heartfelt smile of his because he knows no way of wearing his heart that isn’t on his sleeve.

It’s so like him, to get flustered and blushy when his body responds in a perfectly normal way to touch. And yet, there it is, that creature of _what if_ scratching it’s nails against Gabe’s resolve, especially when he comes home late and his mind is tired enough to let the image of Jack - looking slightly panicked and casting sideways glances at the heart monitor like it has let some secret slip – slip through.

This sucks.

He probably comes home tomorrow, and Gabriel has done nothing but nurse this stupid, aching bundle of feelings alone in their shared space for three days.

He pulls his plate close again, pokes at the rice while his jaw tense and he convinces himself it’s a good idea to say this:

“Yeah,” he nods. “You know.”

Ana looks up with a low, inquisitive _huh._

“I didn’t get your fascination with all this medical stuff, no offense, but I think I see it now,” he takes a bite of his rice. It’s pretty apparent in at least Ana’s face she’s awaiting something sarcastic. He keeps his eyes firmly on his food.

“It really is amazing what the body can do.”

“Yeah!” Lúcio almost yells, he leans forward with his elbows on the table, eyes already alight. If this really was some sort of sarcastic joke he’d have gone in with both legs. It’s apparently hard to contain how genuine his interest in this subject is.

“Yeah! Like how well we heal, it’s amazing! And I read they’re doing studies into sonar medical aid, can you imagine?”

Gabriel cracks his neck to the side, but he already feels Ana’s eyes burning into his skin with amused curiosity. He steels himself to look casual.

“And like with Jack,” he looks up, rests his chin in one hand as relaxed as possible. _Here we go_. “I hadn’t thought about how reactive the body is. Like when I get there, and his heartrate changes a little bit.”

He takes a bite, though all that’s left on the plate is a few grains of dry rice.

They all get very quiet.

He keeps chewing.

“Well,” Lúcio draws the word out long. Long and light and airy.

“And I just think that’s cool,” he finishes up lamely. He tries throwing in a slight shrug to save it but Ana is starring directly at him with a look that somehow seems equal parts surprised, fond and like she wants to jump onto the table and yell _what did I say?_

“It doesn’t do that for me,” Lúcio ends up getting out when the quiet has stretched for too long. He sounds downright smug and Gabriel wants to leave. Leave his own home, let them have it. Reinhardt would probably take fine care of it and Lúcio’s always been fascinated by the snakes. He files it away as a possible last resort.

“Not me either,” Reinhardt booms. He’s crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest and where Ana and Lúcio are both smiling discretely and mischievously, he’s downright beaming.

Gabriel’s mind reels.

“Not my fault you’re not paying attention,” he tries though it sounds halfhearted to even his own ears.

He expects them to descend on him like rapid dogs. Truth be told, they’ve done it before. In the ten years he’s known Ana and Rein, the two he’s known Lúcio, there’s been numerous friendly attempts at poking at _this_. He’s placed the perfect piece right in front of them.

And yet none of them pounce.

He only gets Rein’s enormous hand padding him twice on the shoulder while the man himself - for once in a soft, bubbling tone - exclaims:

“You’re right, that is very interesting.”

Somehow, it’s worse.

\----

Ana stays suspiciously quiet through it all. She calls him in the morning to schedule when he can pick Jack up and doesn’t even allude to the evening before. It honestly might just be her tight schedule. He’s pretty sure he hears some sort of alarm going off in the background and a choir of mumbled voices.

His own day seeps by in a blur as well.

He said goodbye to his unannounced guests not long after dinner. Lúcio and Reinhardt did the dishes (only fair when Ana shopped, and Gabe cooked) and no one said anything about heartbeats and terribly corny romance clichés. Still didn’t keep Gabe from noticing the conspiratorial looks all of them shared when they thought he was looking elsewhere.

By ten, an hour after they leave, he’s sure it means something. By eleven he’s back to being sure it doesn’t. When midnight rolls around he’s sitting on the couch with José slithering over his lap and decides that he cannot risk it.

One of Jack’s threadbare blue sweatshirts is thrown over the coffee table. Under the TV the painted Warhammer figures from his high school days he couldn’t bear to throw out are having some grand battle in the ragged landscape of Gabe’s disorganized DVD collection. Jack had been beet red from embarrassment when he admitted to having played Warhammer and still being in possession of some of the figures. They’d watched _Jason X_ and _Hellbound_ that night and Gabe had leaned in closed and confessed to loving both – objectively terrible – movies (the first one ironically, the other less so).

What does it matter if Jack too had felt like everything was too close and too far away at the same time? If his chest sometimes felt like it was doing gymnastics when they locked eyes too?

It’s cheesy and horrible is what it is. You don’t risk the best friendship you’ve ever experienced for some silly whim.

He tried once, he thinks.

Or not tried, there was no thought, he didn’t even really know he might be in the process of finding out. He only knows he risked it and never really found out the consequences. The night is blurry through both the hazy lens of time and alcohol. Of willful forgetting. But he remembers kissing Jack, just once, just to try it. Just because the light made him look soft and alive. On a train that bumped them closer and only let fleeting rays of orange streetlight fall through and over them in thick, brief bands. He remembers Jack’s lips moving, hands restless when he laughs and explains something. He remembers laughing and running his thumb over a cheek that was already rough with morning stubble.

And kissing him, just to try it.

He remembers how it didn’t linger, though the moment stretched tortuously slow in his memory and then the white-hot panic when he realized what the moment meant. They didn’t laugh on the rest of the train ride. Jack looked at him and asked with a voice that sounded strangely far off if he should tell Vincent. Gabe doesn’t remember what he answered. Only that the air in their apartment was weird and quiet for a week and they never spoke about it, not the morning after when they both woke up to Ana cheerily inviting herself in and talking just a little louder than usually to see them bitch and moan about a shared hangover. Not any morning after that.

A month later Jack and Vincent broke up and Gabe considered praying for the first time in twenty years it wasn’t because of him.

He puts José back in his terrarium, sends the snake a firm nod to confirm that this is his final decision.

He still gets to turn the knowledge fifty different ways in his head before he finally falls asleep.

He suspects that’s why half his class is watching him with barely concealed concern through most of his morning periods. His teaching never stumbles in quality; he makes sure of that, but he might be able to see how he might look a little rough.

Jesse, bless his soul, doesn’t comment over lunch, instead launching into some long-winded retelling of some soap opera he’s currently engrossed in. Gabe listens and responds on autopilot where it feels appropriate. It’s easy to get swept up in it when Jesse’s talking. He’s hit that sweet spot between enthusiasm and cool detachment Gabe knows from experience can motivate even the least engaged child, and from Jesse it never feels forced.

His hand flail. He beats rhythmically on the table with the stump of his right arm to accentuate the drama of the newest episode.

“Am I boring you?” he asks once he’s thoroughly through the explanation. Gabe is quick to shake his head.

“Then what’s the matter?” he leans forward, placing his chin in his palm. There’s no accusation, his brown eyes shine good-naturedly.

Gabriel blows air through his nose like a fiery racehorse.

“Noisy, aren’t you?”

Jesse snorts. His bangs are getting long enough to fall into his eyes when he shakes his head slightly. “You’ve gotten blondie back home again?”

Gabe bristles, feeling oddly seen. “Not yet, picking him up when I’m done here.”

Jesse nods slowly, smiles somewhat slyly before he checks his wristwatch and angles to get up. “Well, tell him I said hi then.”

Gabe grumbles something he isn’t sure is even words. He starts repacking his stuff with practiced ease.

“I’d like to meet him someday?” Jesse’s already done shuffling his papers and empty lunchbox back into the simple brown backpack. He stands inquisitively at the end of the table and waits for Gabriel.

Gabe looks up at him. “Jack?”

“Yeah.”

He makes a low huff when he straightens up, slinging his bag over one shoulder and walking past Jesse. Jesse falls in effortlessly one step behind him.

“He sounds like a great guy,” his voice is easy and light.

“Yeah, I think you’d like him.” He finds that he means it. Jesse and Jack both have a smidgen of that boyish enthusiasm, something brighteyedly charming and blunt. Then he remembers how Jack can be a stickler for rules and how he’s pretty sure Jesse once bribed Hana with a packet of gum to make her stop actively teasing the other kids for being bad at Mario kart.

“You’re lucky to have him. Yeah, sorry he had to go get injured and all that, but still, must be nice to have somebody special,” Jesse continues. He’s smiling, eyes gliding down to stare at his boots. “Actually, was wondering, how did you start dating? I’ve started seeing this guy and-”

Gabriel must look off enough to get him to stop talking.

“We’re-“ he coughs. “We aren’t dating, actually.”

“Oh,” Jesse’s mouth opens in a surprised o. He stops dead in his track for a second, his head ducking forward apologetically. “Sorry, just kind of assumed, you know-“

Gabe cuts him off, rolling his eyes. He’s willing himself to seem casual and unperturbed. “It’s fine, _hijo_.”

Jesse snickers awkwardly, his head ducking once again. “You still down for giving some relationship advice?” His head tips to the side and he smiles like it’s a slightly sly peace offering.

Gabe pats him on the shoulder. “Not sure you want it to be honest.”

His sharp canines are on full display when Jesse shakes his head and smiles. “Probably not actually.”

Gabe has to bump their shoulders together with a grin for that one, though he must admit it’s probably the most sensible answer. He doesn’t really want advice from himself right now either.

\----

He manages to lose himself in his job during the afternoon classes. He gives everyone their essays back and spend most of the time going through exactly how they’re expected to format the things. It spirals into an open question round. He’s pretty sure it’s very informative for everyone but Olivia, Hana and Genji who’re openly reading something on their laptops.

It’s only when the clock ticks past two and they’re engrossed in group work he finds the time to be restless again. Jack had offered to just take a taxi home. Ana had put her foot down.

“There’s benefits to knowing the staff, we’re keeping you here till Gabe picks you up.” Gabe had heard the discussion over a phone call with Ana. He’d joked about picking him up on the bike and apparently the idea had been dumb enough for Ana to drop her usual soft sarcasm and pick up her Stern Doctor Voice when she told him no.

Brigitte is sneaking sideways glances at him. He makes sure to look at both her and Genji’s groups often enough they never actually get to throw the planes that have somehow grown from the text on Roman aqueducts.

And then it’s finally late enough for him to dismiss them and somehow try to make the announcement of tomorrow’s homework be heard over the shuffling and zipping of bags. He thinks they got it. Hopes.

His mind has already parked beside the hospital, fully engaged in a conversation with Ana when somebody clears their throat next to him.

He stops in the middle of cleaning off his desk to look up.

Brig is lingering awkwardly by the door. She’s looking at him with defiant determination and he thinks there might be a slight blush high on her cheeks. He’s hit with the sinking dread that something is really, really wrong.

“Brigitte, can I help you?” It feels slightly off to not use her nickname, but if she’s shaken after receiving bad news the last thing he wants is to come off as unfeeling or overly casual. 

She nods. Just once. Her eyes shine with determination like she’s just committed to joining the fight.

“It’s just,” she hugs her arms protectively around her own body before she breathes out slowly. “Remember when you caught me with the paper airplanes?”

She’s staring demonstrably at her feet.

He’s thoroughly confused. She recoils slightly like she’s mistaken the short, surprised sound he makes for anger or irritation.

“Yes?” he tries. His mind is searching frantically for possible scenarios that could lead to this. _Some other teacher has said something about them, she’s told them I let it slip and she’s afraid it has consequences for me?_ It sounds ludicrous but it’s the only explanation he can get to make some semblance of sense.

“Okay.” The muscles in her shoulders shift and tense when she forces herself to look up and meet his eyes. “You said there were better ways to talk to Hana. What are they?”

The absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on him. The universe is surely out to make sure he never catches a break. This is the day that keeps on giving. Somewhere a cruel God of some kind is giggling at this. He must admit it is somewhat tragicomic.

His eyebrows rise and he’s fighting bravely to not let a short, barking laugh escape.

Her jaw is tense and she’s staring directly at him without really seeing him. She’s definitely blushing now. High on her cheeks and down her neck.

“I, I don’t know, Brig,” the wave of relief she isn’t in trouble suddenly rushes over him. Her face grows weirdly round with disappointment. “Just, just talk to her.” It doesn’t sound overly sure and her nose scrunches up at it.

He breathes out, leans heavy on his hands over the table towards her. “You’re friends, right?”

She looks like she was about to protest, the question throws her off. “Yeah?”

“That’s good, then you’re doing it.”

She looks at him like what she wants to do is call him old and slightly slow. He’s not sure he blames her.

“There’s no trick, you just need to talk to her. Be honest,” he can hear Jack reciting the words in his head just before he says them. He’s heard the rant too many times. It’s fully impossible for Jack to ever watch romcoms without launching into a half hour rant about the stilted, unnatural portrayal of romance.

“Like you’re an expert,” Gabe tells him, part of the script, and tries passing on the popcorn to get him to shut up. Jack takes it automatically and manage to respond around a mouthful:

“Shut up, me and Vince were cute as hell.”

They were and Gabriel had no idea why that bothered him until Lúcio looked at him and howled like a hyena before singsonging ‘ _somebody’s longing_ ’ until Gabe stopped exasperatedly arguing back.

Brigitte doesn’t look to take the advice much better. “You make it sound simple.”

He shrugs. “Maybe it is, kid.”

Her arms cross. She’s standing rigidly before she deflates. “This is dumb.” Her hands flail slightly by her sides. She chuckles awkwardly, blows a lock of hair out of her face. He murmurs something noncommittal. He thinks it might lean towards agreeing.

They stand in silence for a beat. When she shakes her head slightly and looks up at him, he sends her a slight smile. She returns it a little shakily.

“I’ll figure it out. Thank you, Mr. Reyes. See you Monday,” she breathes in and the determination turns back on in her eyes. Though this time, it isn’t pointed at him like a steadfast lacer. It burns onto something she’s picturing to herself.

“You’ll do just fine.”

He can’t help the smile. He nods and stands up tall, collecting the last of his stuff and angling for the door. She’s already turned, halfway outside.

“Though Brig,” she turns to look back at him, eyebrows raised in question. “I’d maybe consider a different route than shooting her down with the planes.”

She snorts and disappears with an eyeroll.

He stands still for a while. He pictures a red snake coiled around an apple. Maybe it is simple. His phone buzzes against his thigh and he already knows it’s Ana. It kicks him into motion, and he tries desperately to not let into the urge to see all this as signs.

\----

Jack sighs with his entire soul as soon as he hits the couch.

Gabe eyes the cast but Jack doesn’t even wince as he goes down, so he assumes it’s fine. It’s pretty clear he’ll have to go fetch the crutches Jack haphazardly threw before beginning this impromptu reunion with their most prominent piece of furniture. He decides it can wait until Jack asks him to do it.

“God, I fucking hate hospitals.” It’s thoroughly grumbled into a throw pillow.

Gabe snorts.

He learned a long time ago to not question the utter unwillingness from all his friends who work at hospitals to be contained there themselves. Ana complained about the food for a month after they let her go when her eye got infected.

“Good to have you back then.” He pats Jack’s leg (the good one) and heads to the kitchen. There’s no monitor to tell him how his body reacts this time though Jack makes some sort of muffled sound when he stretches out properly.

“I’m cooking for you _once_ Blondie, then you better start being useful again,” he yells back. There’s no heat there. They’ve always been immune to each other’s tricks. Gabe stares right through Jack’s forced ‘boy next door’-charm and Jack’s never been susceptible to Gabe’s bouts of protective meanness. It’s frankly amazing they can even stand one another. Sometimes it feels like being disarmed.

“I love you too, Gabe!” he yells back from the couch. “What’re you making?” There’s the heavy sound of Jack struggling to get into a comfortable position without jostling the leg. 

The fridge-door swings open and he grumbles noncommittally while he considers what he even can make. Jack’s responding chuckle flows out to him, low and content. It hits Gabe how much he’s missed having him there with full force. He breathes out slowly and controlled, can’t help the slight smile when he picks out ingredients for some sort of pasta dish.

It honestly isn’t even close to the best he can do, but Jack’s face lights up anyway when he returns with food.

“You’re the _best_.”

Gabe can feel his eyes go soft as he makes a plate for himself as well, “only on the good days.” It’s a good thing Jack’s apparently single mindedly focused on the food in front of him.

Jack hums an agreeing _hm_ between bites. He steals a glance up at Gabe and his eyes shine, steel blue like the sky before rain. “You trying out being humble or something?” Gabe plops down beside him, addressing the comment with a snort and an eyeroll:

“Somebody has to do it.”

It’s Jack’s turn to snort. There’s a smidgen of pesto on his lip.

“I think humility is vastly overrated,” he wipes at his lip, though the stain remains. Gabe leans back, hands behind his head.

“And that’s why you’re the one without a leg,” he gestures at Jack.

“That had nothing to do with humility,” Jack scoffs. “I’m normally very secure on that wall.” The last part is muttered though he’s still grinning slightly.

Gabe barks a short laugh.

“Anyway, I’m a poor wounded soldier would you please watch a bad movie with me?”

There’s no way Gabriel can turn down that offer and for once, Jack can’t follow him to the stacks of DVDs and insistently ask questions about each one he picks out. He tries asking from the couch and Gabe can’t deny the sick joy in grinning like a hyena and telling him ‘ _oh you’ll see’_ knowing full well there’s nothing Jack can do about it.

He feeds _Rubber_ into the maw of the DVD-player and returns to sit beside Jack.

“I swear to God if it isn’t bad in a good way I’m going to hobble to bed.” There’s no bite to the threat. Jack’s already making himself comfortable, bad leg getting hoisted up onto the armrest and one arm slung over the back of the couch.

“Shut up, just watch.” Gabe settles in against his side, keeping some open air between them. He can feel the subtle warmth of Jack’s skin emitting from his arm behind him. It’s so painfully familiar and domestic and soft. So much theirs, something unbreakable and impossibly unremarkable, they’ve gone through exactly these steps a million times before (the broken leg being the only newcomer to the scene).

And yet Gabe’s mind keeps drifting. To the sound of soft thudding, alive and steadily beating.

He sits there on the couch with Jack’s presence like the garden of Eden around him and he wants so badly to stretch a hand out and trace the angel of his jaw, tip his chin up and let it all _fall_. Kiss him till his head spins with it.

He doesn’t.

Instead he sits and defends the movie from whatever supposedly funny remarks Jack makes about it (snickers into his sleeve at the ones that actually succeed), fetches water and eventually sit very still when Jack starts snoring softly against his shoulder.

The adoration is so big in his chest he fears it’ll attempt to escape. Outside, the twilight is soft and purple, the first stars blink blearily awake and he’s pretty sure he was, in some strange way, meant to be here.

Jack grumbles against his neck, breath soft and warm and he can’t help but wonder if this means something. If there’s a basis to close his eyes and hope. The thought flutters like a shy butterfly, slalom between his ribs. For the first time, it feels like he’s considering it properly. There’s been his mind racing, sleep that felt less interesting than staring into the dark and consulting it for the best course of action.

Now, with Jack pressed close, it’s suddenly so _real_. Heartachingly real, that Jack might reciprocate all the silly affection he’s cultivated carefully and reluctantly. But if hope’s a butterfly, fear’s an eagle with stone black eyes and claws scratching against his solar plexus.

Jack’s weight against his shoulder, the even ebb and flow of his breathing. It’s even more real, and it’s already Gabriel’s. This life, this relation, it’s all there in his hands and it feels bordering on selfish to throw it all into the air on the hope it falls back down again coated in gold.

He looks to the snakes and he catches the sight of his blurry, warped reflection in the glass. _You’ve already fallen._ The thought pops into his head so suddenly and insistently he almost attributes it to the snakes. And they’re right. Maybe there is no going back.

Maybe it’s simple.

He almost yelps and jostles Jack awake when his phone buzzes. It’s Ana, only further cementing the fact that she’s psychic. The message simply reads. _It’ll be fine. Tell him._

He throws the phone on the coffee table with a low huff. He doesn’t dare think it’s that simple.

\----

Time starts to glide by as normal. It’s remarkable how fast a new routine springs up around this situation. Jack is – with good reason - kept from getting back at his job while he’s still hobbling around on the crutches.

He complains more than usual and the twitching and leg bouncing gets much worse when he doesn’t have an outlet for all that energy. Gabe’s pretty sure their home’s never been more immaculately clean.

“The second they let me put weight on this thing we’re throwing a dance party in the kitchen,” Jack grumbles.

“As long as you inform the neighbors.” Gabe dries off a plate and puts it back in the drawer.

“Please, they can come too.”

“Extravagant.”

“You betcha,” he picks up the crutches and hobbles over from where he’s been sitting on the kitchen table. “I’m going to carry you up and down the stairs and then scale the building.” He leans his elbow on the counter beside Gabe, wordlessly accepts the towel Gabe presses into his hand and starts drying off as well. “Hell, I’ll give Rein a piggy-back ride down the street if he wants. I’m not cut out for this.” He makes an indecisive wave with both hands, a vague gesture at his entire situation.

Gabe snorts at the mental image. “So, you think you’re cut out for dancing then?” he puts down the glass he’s currently holding to look at Jack.

“Please, how hard can it be?” Jack bumps against his shoulder, drops the eye contact and ducks his head. Weird. He shies away from the physical contact of their sides bumping.

Gabe staggers for a second. “Hard.” He manages, grinning. If Jack senses the slightly forced edge he doesn’t comment. “Don’t think you could keep up.”

Jack makes a skeptical little _hm_ sound, looking back at Gabe like it’s a challenge. He’s back to normal though his eyes stay a little darty.

“Well then,” Gabe blows air through his nose, competitive streak fully activated, “get that foot in working order and we’ll see about it.”

Jack makes a sound halfway between a snort and a chuckle.

“If you ruin my joyous healed knee party by turning it into a competition I’m moving out.”

“Oh please, we can always break the other one and try again.”

\----

“It’s been kind of hellish, kind of nice.”

Jesse grins wryly. He’s sitting like he owns the place, leaned back with the elbow stump resting on the table and feet slung up on an empty chair.

“Explain,” he’s smiling.

Gabe leans over his coffee, fiddling slightly before he wraps both hands around the cup. “Grocery shopping takes a lot longer when you don’t have a partner who insists on jogging everywhere,” Jesse makes a low sound of agreement. “But it’s pretty nice to be faster than him for a change.”

The decision to go for coffee after work was taken on a whim. Jesse spend a not insignificant amount of time complaining how this Monday seemed to be ‘more Monday’ than other Mondays. Gabe didn’t try to argue. Not after suddenly remembering the huge stack of assignments he had to collect from one of his classes today. He almost considered moving the deadline for his own sake, but none of them pleaded so he had no excuse to fake reluctantly acquiescing.

“But,” Gabe pushes off the table to sit more straight. “It’s over soon. He’s going to his last checkup tomorrow.”

Jesse raises the coffee-mug like a silent toast. His grin stays soft and curious as he takes a sip. “Hopefully you don’t expect him to jog right away?”

Gabe’s eyebrows rise. “Let’s see if I can stop him.”

Jesse blows air through his nose, head shaking slightly. The silence stretches comfortably. Summer’s drawing closer, Gabe can smell it in the air. See it in the columns of clear white light slanting through the windows and painting neat squares on the back wall.

Jesse moves slightly, sets his feet down on the floor. When he looks up again he’s wearing that one expression that means he’s serious about something and slightly scared he’s overstepping somehow.

Gabriel’s stomach drops.

“Actually, now that I’ve got you. Are you okay? You’ve looked a little distracted lately.”

Gabe sighs, wills himself into a sly smile. He’s fairly sure Jesse’s almost supernaturally good at gauging people’s emotional states, he’s seen him do it to the kids more than once, and yet it still feels foreign and uncomfortable to be seen.

“Jeez, kid,” he snorts, trying to get it to sound equal parts playfully offended and lighthearted. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. Jesse’s hand moves restlessly, he corrects how he’s sitting sightly.

“Didn’t mean to dig in your stuff, just wanted to be sure,” he scratches absentmindedly at the stump of his left arm. “You know, stress is nothing to scoff at.”

Gabe stalls. His instincts tell him to brush it off as nothing, but Jesse’s looking at him with soft concern and he’s not _that_ though.

“I’m not stressed.” His voice sounds strange, slower than usual and somehow more careful.

Jesse’s looking at him inquisitively, there’s a pull by his jaw and Gabe just knows he’s about to say ‘ _okay, good to hear_ ’ and leave it at that because goddamn, Jesse McCree might be a persistent asshole from time to time but his mama raised him right where it counts.

Gabriel isn’t sure what he wants when he opens his mouth, mostly on instinct.

And then it all spills out. He didn’t mean for it to and at every little twist and turn of the story his mind is screaming at him to stop. That this is wildly unprofessional, that eating lunch together and sometimes grabbing a beer after work doesn’t constitute friendship solid enough to unload years of disorganized baggage onto.

Through it all Jesse’s face morphs from interest to slight concern to mild surprise until at last Gabe’s pretty sure he’s actively holding back the amused quirk of his lip. His hands are very still when he sits the cup down, he nods slightly before he looks Gabe right in the eye.

“So,” his hand land heavy on the table, fingers softly marking the beats of his speech, “he lives with you though he doesn’t have to, takes time out of his busy schedule to spend it with you, was a serial dater until you drunk kissed at a party and he turned all quiet for a week and his heart literally beats faster when he sees you?”

“… yes.”

Gabe’s pretty sure Jesse’s coffee-cup is empty, still doesn’t stop him from raising it to his lips and faking taking a very skeptical sip.

Gabriel does hear how it sounds.

He makes a deepfelt, strangled sigh, dumping his head into his hands. “This is so fucking dumb.”

Jesse’s nose wrinkles. “Yeah.”

Gabe looks up at him with a snort. “Thank you, that did feel kind of good.”

“No problem, I’ll be here to implicitly call you stupid any day.” He leans back in his chair again. His eyes glint when he grins.

Gabe just rolls his eyes at him. He drops his head to follow the patterns in the wood of the table. Jesse hums low and thoughtful.

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

Gabe raises an eyebrow, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “You want me to repeat the ten-paragraph essay about being a coward ‘cause I ain’t about to.”

It’s Jesse’s time to roll his eyes.

“You’re such a fucking drama queen-”

“Take off the hat and we can talk about it.”

Jesse stalls when Gabe cuts him off. “Fine,” he smirks. “This one’s for the heart broken.” He removes the cowboy hat and places it on the table. Gabe is hit with the urge to steal it and cut it into many tiny pieces.

“Look, I’m just saying this guy clearly means a lot to you and I’m pretty sure you mean a lot to him too.”

Gabe chews on the inside of a cheek.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Jesse looks bordering on surprised at how easily he surrenders. “Perhaps?” his voice goes high and thin like he too is doubting if it’s actually sound advice.

“Anyway, that’s enough of me being pathetic.” He sits up, breathes deeply.

“Oh, please keep going, though.” Jesse puts the hat on again.

“Stop being smug, I’m pretty sure I remember someone talking a big game about arm wrestling.”

“Hey!” Jesse grins. “I don’t control how freakishly strong Brig is, she’s one of yours.”

Gabe acquiesces with a shrug. He checks his wristwatch. It’s probably about time to head back home. Jack’s agreed to cook, but he still has the mountain of assignments to get through.

Jesse grunts in sympathy when he tells him and angles to get up.

“Hey Gabe?”

Gabe turns in the door to look at him as he shuffles after him out of the coffeeshop. “Huh?”

“Tell me how it goes.” He can’t be sure because of the hat, but he’s pretty sure Jesse actually winks.

\----

Gabriel chickens out because of course he does.

Or is it chickening out? It just never feels like the right time. He comes home and explains why he’s late to a grinning Jack with a fine dusting of flour on his burgundy sweater.

“Ana suggested kneading something,” he explains, face scrunching up. “Don’t know how successful it is to be honest.”

And from there, the familiarity and security of the entire scene sucks him in and there isn’t time for some grandiose confession.

“If the kitchen is a mess it wasn’t me.” Jack smiles so his eyes crinkle up when he places a pizza that is less than perfectly round down on the table. A little thick in the dough department too.

“It’s ugly as sin,” he says it with a voice high and adoring, like it’s a huge compliment to the cook.

Jack snorts. “Well, made it for you so seems fitting.”

“As long as there’s no pineapple I don’t care how hideous it is.”

“I’m offended you’d suggest I’d do such a thing.”

“See,” Gabe takes the first bite, gestures with the slice at Jack. “That’s why we function so well together.”

Jack holds up his own slice. It’s bending under its own weight and Gabe honestly not sure all of the dough is properly cooked. He still bumps the two slices together in a toast when Jack stretches his arm out.

“To fine taste,” he grumbles, blue eyes sparkling.

“To the cook.”

Jack accepts it with a poised nod. “To me.”

 _Now,_ a tiny part of Gabe’s mind suggests. _Tell him now_. But he stalls for a second too long. Jack grins at him and starts eating and it feels off to say anything now.

It tastes mildly bad, but Gabe isn’t about to complain. He managed to almost completely thrash their dinning table when one of its legs started to feel loose. They had to saw a solid two inches off every leg when he finally admitted defeat and had Jack fix it. It took maybe half an hour and he stopped making too much fun of Jack’s bad cooking after that.

“Tell me what’s going on out in the real world.” Jack grimaces at the bite he’s just taken.

“What? You haven’t kept up from your tower window?”

Jack rolls his eyes. Gabe smiles softly before he starts laying out the day’s events. How well the project his Spanish class is working on is coming along. How Jesse’s tired and overworked and Ogundimu’s equal parts terrifying and impressive.

Jack grins, runs a hand through his hair. His hands move excitedly when he answers he almost asked Rein for a knitting pattern to start on.

“That bad, huh?” Gabe leans back in his chair, hands behind his head.

“Hey, it’s an ancient craft,” Jack leans towards him, elbows on the table. “But yeah, it’s bad.”

“You get out tomorrow though.”

Jack grimaces.

“Still have to _take care_ and _avoid_ _strenuous physical activity_ ,” he marks Angela’s directions with air quotes. “Where’s the fun in that?” His face scrunches up adorably.

Gabe pats him on the shoulder with exaggerated sympathy. Jack grunts a laugh. “Oh, fuck off.” His voice is soft and joking as he pushes Gabe’s hand off his arm. His eyes flicker for a second, a slight waver going through his body. Their eyes meet. Both leaned over the table, Gabe with a hand pressed against the tabletop, Jack with both his hands relaxed in his lab. Gabe can’t help but feel like he’s preparing to raise one and do something. Anything. Something so specific he doesn’t dare put a name to it.

The moment stretches. It doesn’t feel like it lasts forever, time just ceases to exist.

 _Now_ , Gabe thinks though it echoes distantly though his head. _Do it now_. He doesn’t. Instead Jack’s eyes drop to his hands and he laughs a tiny, wavering laugh and once again they exist in a universe where time matters.

Gabe cleans the kitchen while Jack settles in the living room to get some things sorted before he can get back to his job. He catches glimpses of him when he passes between the dining table and the sink with dirty dishes.

 _Now,_ he pictures himself looming softly in the doorway. _“Jack-“_ voice mild and somehow somber. How Jack’s head tips up and he pushes the reading glasses up into his hair. _“Jack I-_ “ and then what? The fantasy glitches out and he stays with both hands submerged in the muddy water.

“Tomorrow.” He tells the soft dark above his bed almost as soon as he’s laying down. The light from a passing car travels steadily across the wall. “Tomorrow.”

He’s not sure if it feels like a promise or a threat.

\----

He sleeps through his alarm.

Jack ends up banging his one remaining crutch against the lower half of his bedroom door. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Gabe sits up and is immediately wide awake. He’s already late. He doesn’t even have the mental capacity to be angry at Jack as he sits grinning on the couch and watches Gabriel stumble though the kitchen while trying to put on a shirt and brush his teeth at the same time.

Bastard’s even made breakfast. Considerate asshole.

“Have a good day!” he yells when Gabe runs through the door. Gabe isn’t sure whatever he slurs in response can be classified as words.

Beautiful start to the day really. He thought he’d have time to practice some sort of confession while driving there, the helmet is usually a great way to conceal you’re talking to yourself in traffic. Instead he’s left to glance at his watch every thirty seconds and swearing lightly under his breath.

He _likes_ having a plan. It’s always nice to have room for freestyling, but this uncertainty in how to even breach the topic is setting something small and squirming loose in his chest. He wants this to be good. He wants it to succeed, of course and he’s already aware that if Jesse and Lúcio and the rest of them are wrong, there’ll be made so many splinters of him he’s not sure how he’ll ever pick them all up.

But even then. Jack is charismatic and sweet and he goddamn deserves a better confession than ‘ _sometimes I look at you and it physically hurts. Thoughts?_ ’

He has to push it away when he arrives at the school. He hopes none of his students spot him when he parks recklessly and maybe technically not fully legally.

He ends up only being about five minutes late which is impressive all things considered. Still doesn’t stop kids from being ruthless little things.

He laughs it off. Rolls his eyes at multiple claims of the good old ‘if you were 15 minutes late, we’d be allowed to leave’.

There’s a rhythm to teaching it’s easy to lose himself in. Until he remembers the meeting he’s to attend today and the project he’s promised to look at for Jesse.

It’s a beautiful day – faint clouds torn to fluffy shreds across a searingly blue sky. The last of spring resiliently digging its heels in while summer comes marching. He looks out at the budding trees and sadistically hopes Jack’s visit to the hospital drags so he’ll still be home first. Jesse pads him sympathetically on the shoulder and smiles knowingly. Gabe bristles and rolls his eyes.

\----

He nearly falls through the door when he’s finally home. A part of him had clinged onto the hope of finding it locked, but the handle goes down and the door opens with a soft click.

His heart resides somewhere closer to his throat than its usual position. He’d thought he could at least get the planning done on the drive back home, but his mind had been full of excited static. Sometimes branching off into the territory of either hopeful daydream or grey dread.

Jack’s humming along to something slow and hopeful from the kitchen. It’s not entirely in pitch, but the sound soothes something bone-deep in Gabe.

Gabe lets his bag drop to the floor with a soft thud. His heart is beating fast.

Jack’s head peaks out from the kitchen. His face lights up in a grin when he sees Gabe. “Look at this.” He ducks back in, there’s the soft click when he puts something down while Gabe takes off his shoes and jacket.

When he’s deposited it all in the entre and enters into the living room, he’s greeted with Jack standing upright with weight on both legs. He smiles and like it’s some sort of magic trick, he walks first one way then the other.

“Eh?” he throws his hands out, expectant.

“I must say,” Gabe claps his hands together, eyebrows raised like he’s critiquing a performance of Olympic dimension. “That is some of the best walking I’ve ever seen.”

Jack nods self-assuredly.

“Didn’t feel like inviting everyone over.” He smiles, leans against the kitchen counter. The windows in the kitchen are small, most of them could do with a thorough cleaning, but the fuzzy, golden light they let in seems somehow perfect for this scene. It streams over one of Jack’s shoulders in a warm beam. The particles of dust swirl like galaxies being born when he moves.

“Though I think I remember something about dancing?” his eyes almost close when he smiles. All warmth and playful challenge. His freckles are beginning to show, though Gabe’s pretty sure he’d have to get closer to see the full extent of them.

The fondness expands in his chest until it’s almost cloying. The music is a mild guitar riff and Jack is beautiful in the way he always is. Because he’s hot as shit, but mostly because Gabe sees him warped through years of friendship and love and knowledge of every little facet that makes him so, so worth loving. It’s like it all unfolds, laid bare in the golden light. The way they slot together like it’s no feat at all to exist. The weight of their shared space, of everything they’ve build and every little piece of himself Gabe’s – some on purpose but mostly by chance – given Jack access to and seen him accept wholly and eagerly. The need to tell him is so monumental it almost just spills out.

“Jack-“

Jack misunderstands the word as a protest to the dancing.

“Aw come on,” he pushes away from the counter and takes two steps towards Gabe, close enough to close a hand around Gabe’s arm and pull him fully into the kitchen. “Don’t have it in print but I’m pretty sure you promised.”

Gabe stutters for a second. He’s pretty sure he must look almost scared.

“Getting cold feet already?”

He’s looking at Gabe with immense mischievousness, blue eyes glimmering with the stuff. He’s let go of Gabe’s arm, now he beckons him closer, one hand stretched out almost like a taunt.

It’s enough to make Gabe roll his eyes and surrender. He’s not sure if it’s because this would be a seriously weird segue into a confession or because Jack’s (knowingly, he’s pretty sure) trying to poke at his competitive nature.

Either way, it’s working.

“My feet are perfectly fine,” he bites and grabs the hand outstretched to him. Jack’s hands are slightly softer since he hasn’t been able to climb for a while, but still just as strong. Jack snorts at him, though the accompanying eyeroll feels slightly forced. The stark glee that shines in his entire face, though he looks like he’s trying to contain it, is as genuine as they come.

The moves they go through are less than elegant. The music is upbeat and light, a joyous back and forth. Jack’s bobbing eagerly from side to side. It’s charming though it isn’t entirely on all of the beats either. Gabe has to shake his head and snicker though he probably isn’t much better off.

He thinks his rhythm might be better, but his joints feel almost downright rusty. It’s been a long time since they’ve done anything like this. Back when they still went out regularly, Jack would dance and Gabe would stand in a corner and watch with one eyebrow raised in equal parts fondness and exasperation. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t do this for anyone else in the world.

“Look at you go!” Jack laughs when he dips under Gabe’s arm in a spin ending in a slight bow that may or may not be there to conceal a stumble. “ _I don’t dance_ my ass, maybe in a week we’ll go for karaoke too.”

Gabe winces dramatically, can’t help it from merging into a smile. “Keep dreaming.”

Jack snorts, twists them around and pauses to clap, only missing the clap in the song by a heartbeat. “Pretty please, I’ll break my other knee?”

Gabe tries looking like he’s considering. “Left knee and a collarbone and we’ll talk about it.”

Jack dissolves into slight chuckles. “You’re a hard bargain, Mr. Reyes.”

Gabe feels breathless and awkward, but in a weirdly good way when the song dies down. Jack’s chest rising and falling at a slightly higher pace. He runs his hand through his hair and it’s a good look on him, the excitement to be _moving_ again shines from him in waves.

Gabe distantly hopes there’s an aspect of ‘moving _with Gabe_ ’ that adds to all that happiness.

“Remember when Rein taught us this?” Jack’s let go of his hand to go put on another song. Gabe can only remember two times Rein taught them anything dance related and both might herald disaster.

It’s the waltz.

“You really think you’re ready for three fourths?”

Jack tsks, moving closer to brazenly place Gabe’s hand on his back. His eyes flicker to Gabe’s, as if to check if it’s okay. Gabe’s pretty sure his mouth is hanging slightly open, muscles too tense. He wills it all away, smiles crooked and expectantly.

Jack breathes out, a silent _okay._ “Good thing I’ve got you here to teach me then?” he manages to make it sound like both a compliment, a challenge and a subtle dig at Gabe’s abilities somehow.

It kicks them into motion, counting aloud, both holding too much focus on their feet.

“I swear to god if you step on the right foot, I’m going to dropkick you,” Jack grits out, voice low and intense with concentration. Gabe snorts.

“I thought you were back in working order?”

“I’m just saying I don’t know how I’d justify it to Angela,” he looks up again, playful and beautiful. Gabe finds he doesn’t really have a retort. He’s pretty sure Angela would do all the necessary kicking herself if Jack came back in with a messed-up leg again this soon.

Instead he spins them with a flourish that makes Jack gasp and chuckle nervously. Gabe grins. “Sure you can keep up?”

Jack looks up and Gabe knows it’s _on_. They might work well together, but they certainly aren’t above a playful competition over dancing of all things.

Gabe’s got the upper hand, he is technically leading, but it turns out it doesn’t mean much when both of them have only the barest minimum of experience at this from a mutual friend deciding to teach them the basic moves some two years ago.

Gabe almost forgets to feel flustered at the closeness of their bodies. How they seem to lean into each other more when they get the hang of it, caught in each other’s gravitational fields when the lingering awkwardness isn’t there to pull them apart. His chest is rising quick.

And that’s his own heart he can hear roaring in his chest. But it feels like it’s both of them.

And then they get overly ambitious. Gabe turns, extends his arm to twirl Jack before dipping him. They’re both giggling through the move, obviously enamored with the drama of it all before Gabe miscalculates and Jack throws himself into it a little too much and they go down.

Jack yelps – a sound somewhere between a startled yell and a delighted bark of laughter – his hand close around Gabe’s bicep and they glide slowly and inevitably to the ground. A fall in slow-motion.

“Watch out for the leg!” Jack can barely get it out between breathless laughing.

“Yes, yes your bloody leg.” Gabe sits back gracelessly, landing on his butt with a low thud. Jack’s still holding onto his arm, before he rolls off his lap to sit beside him.

“Yep, it still works,” he pads at his leg after a couple of seconds. They both dissolve into chuckling.

“A definite success I’d say,” Gabe pitches in and Jack nods. He’s looking up at Gabe with something approaching shyness, and something terribly soft in his expression as well; eyebrows slightly drawn together, lips soft and slightly parted.

The silence drags, lingers for just a second while the surprised giggles die out. And Jack’s still looking at him with eyes blue and open and there’s soft golden light falling in over the side of his face, his hair lit up like a jagged halo.

Suddenly, the need to tell him, to just blurt it out expands to the point of painful in Gabe’s chest. If he doesn’t let it go now, it’ll be caged in there forever and when it rots, he’ll rot with it. It has to get out, he deserves to know. Both of them.

“Actually, there’s something I need to tell you-“

“Wait! Pause,” Jack hands flail between them before he gets them under control. He sucks in a deep breath. His eyes burn determined. “Okay, this is a save point.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gabe can’t help the annoyed pull by his brow and Jack must notice. He’s clambering to sit up more straight.

“Please just listen,” his hands flail again and he’s not looking at Gabe. Instead his gaze drops to somewhere between his own hands and Gabe’s torso. There’s something labored to his breath. “Okay, so, I don’t know how I haven’t realized before, but then I fell and then in the hospital and I guess I,” he chuckles nervously, “I guess I realized something I should have figured out a long time ago and-

Gabe’s on fire. “Please just say it, Jack.”

“I think,” Jack’s eyes drop and then he steels himself and looks up. His head is tilted to the side, eyebrows slightly creased. He almost looks like he’s wondering about something. His eyes seem slightly dazed even as they burn. “I think I might be in love with you?”

“No!” the reaction is instantaneous and not on purpose. It just boils over and out without his permission.

Jack’s eyes grow huge and instantly wounded. He physically recoils. “The save point! Go back to there, forget everything past that.” His hands move, a slight panicked shake to the movement.

Gabe’s scrambling. It’s clear Jack’s angling to get up. He reaches a hand out to stop him, halts the motion when Jack recoils like he’s been wounded. _Say something idiot, explain._ He opens his mouth and hope something better comes out. “No, not-“ his face scrunches up in frustration, but it stops Jack. His forehead wrinkles and he’s looking at Gabe with rapt attention.

“It’s not … bad,” he continues lamely. It’s his hands restless between them now. “It’s just that,” he dips his head between his shoulder blades before looking up, “that’s my line.”

Jack’s face flashes through about ten facial expressions he never has the time to decode before it settles between total deadpan and stunned gratitude. “I fucking hate you, you know that?”

And all that affection in Gabe’s chest bursts like a star exploding. He’s grinning from ear to ear, even as he’s genuinely sorry for that one when he speaks. “That’s fair.”

Jack’s smiling too now, though it’s a soft, wavering thing. “I don’t know why it didn’t click earlier.” He’s blushing too, high on his cheeks and down his chest.

Gabe nods. “We’re kind of slow aren’t we?”

Jack laughs and it sounds like running water. “Think we’re the last ones to realize.”

“Oh, Ana’s tormented you too?” He moves to run an experimenting hand up Jack’s arm. Jack looks down on it, looking almost transfixed. It’s a gesture that has passed between them so many times before and yet the meaning seems fundamentally changed now that there’s a possibility for more. Like this simple gesture of casual affection is holding everything they could be.

“Tirelessly,” Jack breathes. He looks up and Gabe wants to call his past self for ever thinking Jack has looked soft before. This is soft. Soft and open and beautiful in a way that defies the word itself. He breathes out through his nose.

“I think, I-“ he clears his throat. Jack laughs, almost nothing but a rushing breath, but his eyes remain inquisitive. “I think I should kiss you now?”

There’s a voice at the back of his skull lamenting about how terribly dumb that sounded, and why was it even a question? It’s vastly overpowered by the roaring adoration that swells under his ribs when Jack nods like it’s the first time he’s ever nodded. Slow and considering.

“Yeah, I think that’d be a great idea.”

And then he does.

It’s really no harder than that. Just lean forward and cup Jack’s jaw gentler than he’s ever touched something before. Jack’s breath hitches like he’s almost surprised by it, then he breathes out and it hits Gabe like a tidal wave all over again. Their noses bump. He pulls back with a low, rumbly chuckle. Jack’s eyes are open and so soft, sky blue and ocean blue and mostly black. Gabe pulls him close by the back of his neck until their foreheads bump, breath mingling when he breathes out, suddenly breathless.

Jack’s hands roam restless and searching over his chest, come up to rest by his jaw and tip his head up before he kisses him again. Carefully. Gabe’s eyes flutter closed immediately, but he’s pretty sure Jack’s eyebrows are knit like he’s concentrating. Like it almost hurts a little bit.

He shakes his head slightly when they pull apart again. His thumb traces the edge of Jack’s cheekbone, against the stubble. Jack nuzzles into the contact, though his eyes stay on Gabe’s.

“Definitely a good idea.” Jack’s voice is low and frayed at the edges.

Gabe laughs, can’t help but pull him in once more to kiss him. Once, twice. Soft, quick little things until Jack’s sputtering from laughter and rolling back to escape. The joy is featherlight and searing in every part of Gabe’s body. Relief and anticipation and something so raw and immediate in it’s joy it defies words sit like physical things in is chest.

He follows Jack, presses a last close-mouthed kiss into the side of his mouth. He lays on his side, his cheek pressed to Jack’s shoulder.

“This is so fucking cheesy, you know that right?” Jack turns to look at him.

“Like you didn’t plan it with the dancing.”

Gabe has seen Jack blush before, of course he has, but this time feels better than all the ones before combined. He sputters a laugh, throw a hand out to stop Jack from rolling away in embarrassment.

“Was it that obvious?”

Gabe hugs him tight. “Well, I didn’t see it coming.”

“To be fair you’re dense as shit.” Jack’s cheeks are still a deep red when he peaks up from Gabe’s hold.

“Though you were supposed to be in love with me?” It feels weird to say it. He can’t help a slight stutter, a tiny breath before jumping into it. Jack’s eyes go soft when he says it too, his shoulders hunching forward and the blush deepening anew.

“Yeah,” it’s drawn out and floaty. Gets eaten right up when Jack closes the distance between them to first nuzzles their noses together, then kiss him soundly once again. Gabe’s hands flail by his sides until Jack reaches down and places them solidly on his own hips. There’s an open intimacy and a need to the movement that stuns Gabriel. He’s not entirely sure Jack meant for the sentiment to spill over into the move. It doesn’t matter, it adds something hot and needy to the slosh of emotions in his chest.

He’s never considered Jack this way, not really. Somehow always knows things would be too undeniable if he did. Now though, every half formed thought about the softness of his skin and the way he sounds when he’s out of breath and straining comes shooting to the surface. The way their bodies move against one another. Every carefully avoided thought of friction and hands intertwined and Jack slack jawed beneath him.

Gabe chuckles.

“You really want to do this here?”

Jack pulls back, his nose wrinkled though the smile wrinkles by his eyes haven’t gone. “You don’t even want to take me to dinner first.”

Gabe bops his head from side to side like he’s considering. “Sure as hell don’t want to eat your cooking as a way to end this.”

Jack squawks affronted before giving in and nodding in admittance. He sits up heavily, dragging Gabe with him. He rises to his feet slowly, his fingers stay tangled up in Gabe’s all the way until they’re falling into each other again, this time against the counter. Jack pulls back, jumps onto the counter to be out of Gabe’s reach. Time becomes sinewy and slow when he raises their joint hands to pepper kisses along the knuckles of Gabe’s hand.

He smiles coyly, nearly kicks Gabe in the stomach when his legs start swinging slightly.

“Tell me what to do sous chef.”

Gabe rolls his eyes and snorts overdramatically but complies any way.

What they end up making isn’t impressive, but at least Jack doesn’t burn any of the components though it’s close at least twice. For once, Gabe doesn’t mind. Not when he gets to absentmindedly reach out and guide Jack’s hand through the motion and look up to see an expression of doped-out awe in his face.

“You aren’t taking any of this in,” he deadpans. Jack’s face cracks in a grin.

“Nope.”

It still tastes nice, though Gabe has a hard time paying attention to it. It’s hard, when Jack is looking at him almost bashfully, changing between avoiding his eyes and meeting them with open adoration.

Gabe clears his throat, gestures vaguely down at his plate.

“When are you going to get this?”

Jack snorts, drops his chin in his hand. His eyes glitter with something mischievous. “I can do so many other useful things.” His ankle hooks above Gabe’s under the table.

“Like what?” Gabe leans towards him. Jack leans in too, his tongue darts out over his lip and they part. One of Gabe’s eyebrows rise, a challenge. _So?_

“I’d hope to show you in twenty minutes time.” He makes it through the sentence straight faced, then almost chokes on a sip of water in laughter. “Your face, Gabe!”

Gabe recovers as best as he can, laughing a little sheepishly. “Jesus Christ.”

Jack reaches across the table, after a beat Gabe takes his hand. Absentmindedly, Jack runs a thumb over his palm. He’s smiling ruefully down at their hands.

“You know,” he says. “I don’t know whether to feel silly or lucky.” He huffs, a soft exhale. Gabe grumbles his agreement.

“And you know,” Jack continues, a short laugh spilling out. “It was the goddamn heart monitor of all things that made me realize.”

Gabe’s eyebrows rise. “Me too actually.”

Jack looks up at him, amusement in the cock of his brow. He traces the lines in Gabe’s palm. “I don’t know how, but I’d convinced myself this was just … really intense friendship. Like, I’d want to touch you all the time and miss you when you were away and sometimes I’d think _‘if I could wake up to you in my life for the rest of my life I think I’d like that’_ ” He ducks his head and snorts like it’s something embarrassing. “I do know that sounds intense and I ain’t saying we have to get hitched or nothing or confess undying love right away, but goddamn.” He looks up at Gabe and his eyes shine so brightly. “It took the damn heart monitor beeping for it to click. That I really, really want _this_.” He shakes their hands slightly.

Gabe can only nod. “We’re kind of slow.”

Jack giggles. “We really are.”

“You know, I think I actually consulted the snakes about this.”

It’s Jack’s turn to cock his eyebrows expectantly. “Well what did they say?” He laughs slightly at Gabe’s returning grimace.

The silence stretches between them, friendly and warm. Then Jack gets up with a low _‘oh’_ , angles to take the dishes away. Gabe rises with a jump.

“It can wait.” He steps up close to Jack’s strong back, wraps his arms around his middle, nuzzles against the nape of his neck. Jack leans back, sighs into the contact. He wiggles slightly until Gabe loosens his hold enough for him to spin in his hold.

They’re standing chest to chest. Jack’s smiling gently. One of his hands settle against Gabe’s cheek to thumb a lock of hair out of his face.

“What did you want to do instead?” his voice is a low murmur, genuine interest. Gabe leans in close to kiss his cheek.

“Nothing in particular,” Gabe murmurs into his skin. “Whatever you want.”

Jack shimmies slightly in his hold. He’s smiling brightly and expectantly when Gabe pulls back to look at him. “You know, I wasn’t joking about being useful earlier.”

“Oh?”

Jack pokes his tongue out at him. “I’m just saying you’re hot as shit and I want to touch you.”

Gabe sucks in a whistling breath. “You sure?”

“Yes.” There’s no waver in either Jack’s gaze or his voice. His hand splays over Gabe’s chest, holding him in place with its own strange form of magnetism. “I know it’s fast and maybe a little overeager but-“ his voice staggers, one hand gliding down the side of Gabe’s torso. Jack whimpers slightly.

“Yeah,” Gabe breathes and Jack nods. Continue to nod slightly when Gabe tilts his chin to kiss him again.

It’s a slow, sinewy thing. Gabe keeps his hold on Jack’s jaw, so the kiss never deepens. And yet it buzzes through his body like burning embers. Jack gasps into his mouth, body jerking forward the tiniest bit and it’s enough. He detangles from Jack, can’t hold back the wounded whine at the loss of contact. And then they’re moving, away from the still messy table, leaving the mess in the kitchen to stumble through the door.

They make it to the middle of the living room before Gabe decides this must be good enough and starts planting hungry kisses down the column of Jack’s neck. He shudders and stops in his tracks, his breathing harsh and quick as he leans into the contact.

He turns in Gabe’s hold, gives in and lets Gabe kiss playfully against the side of his mouth, push him against the couch. His fingers tighten in Gabe’s shirt as he starts to fall. He’s laughing when Gabe settles between him, runs a thumb reverently along his brow.

When Gabe goes to kiss him again, his hands stay on Gabe’s chest keeping the kiss chaste and teasing.

“Not in front of the kids,” he chuckles against his mouth.

“You’re talking about the fucking snakes? Gabe pulls back, going for a deadpan.

“You’re supposed to say ‘ _then my place or yours?_ ’ actually,” he angles to sit up. Their legs tangle with the movement until he has to flop back down and let Gabe stand above him first before trying. Gabe stretches a hand out for him to take.

“Your place or mine then?”

“Definitely mine, your bed sucks.” He jumps up quick to peck Gabe quickly on the lips before dragging him by the hand towards Jack’s bedroom.

“Hey, I don’t know what you need all that extra space for,” he tries getting bite in his voice, but it fizzles out into a slight smile.

“It’s for sprawling,” Jack smirks and Gabe actually hates how he manages to make it sound almost sexy.

They’re barely through the door before Jack topples them, crawling into Gabe’s lap. Gabe has spent many and hour cursing out Jack’s oversized bed (especially the days following actually maneuvering it up the stairs and into his bedroom) but right now he does see the merit. He’s pretty sure they would have fallen off his regular one-person bed at that maneuver.

“Hey, you okay with topping?” Jack cups his face in his hands. His thighs tense on each side of Gabe’s and he’s pressing his entire body against him, like he can’t get enough of the contact. The question sounds genuine and thoughtful though.

Gabe nods, whimpers slightly when Jack runs a thumb over his lip. There had been no concrete want in his head, just a warm need to get his hands on Jack’s skin and hear his breath stutter in new beautiful ways. Now though, the all too real image of Jack bouncing slowly in his lap or laid out under him, strong thighs shuttering as Gabe enters him – slowly, so slowly – burst like a supernova in his mind. His hands tense around Jack’s hips, draws him in close.

Jack makes a sound halfway between a chuckle and a sigh.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

Gabe grumbles against his neck. It’s a nice thought, but he’s pretty sure they don’t have either condoms or lube. “Yeah but I don’t have-“

“I do.” He pulls back, watches Gabe with eyes huge and blue.

Gabe’s hands roam restlessly up and down his thighs. “Oh.”

Jack’s cheeks flush a new shade of pink and he ducks his head. If he wasn’t sitting on Gabe, he would have tried pushing his face into his shoulder. Gabe doesn’t let him try, getting one hand fastened in the hair on the back of his neck and holding him still.

Jack’s mouth falls open in a pink _o_ when he pulls slightly. Gabe sees his chance to get his mouth back on the column of Jack’s neck. Strong fingers close around his shoulder, pulling him close.

“You’ve ever thought about me? Like this?” he rolls his hips up against Jack. Jack arches to meet him, keens high and painted before it breaks into a breathless chuckle.

“No,” he fastens both hands in Gabe’s short hair, pulls him up to meet him. “But I’ve though a lot about nameless, faceless men with scars and strong hands.” He moves a hand to grab onto Gabe’s, their fingers weaved together when Gabe starts rolling him onto his back and pins it his hand to the mattress.

“Me too,” Gabe breathes against his mouth, nibbles at his jaw.

“That’s self-absorbed, Gabe.”

He has to bite down on Jack’s jaw for that one. “You know what I mean.” It comes out a lot more wavering and thin than intended. It’s hard when Jack’s hips jump at the bite and he whines low in his throat.

He sits up briefly to help pull Jack’s shirt off, uses the moment to pull his own over his head as well.

He’s seen Jack shirtless many times, too many times to count over the years. And yet the sight of him – splayed out, hair tousled, a pretty pink spreading over his chest – makes something heavy and solid drop into Gabe’s stomach.

“Stop drooling.” Jack pulls him out of it, hands gliding along Gabe’s hips and side in search of leverage to pull him down.

“Let a man admire, would you?” he demonstrably doesn’t give in to Jack’s pull, sitting back more firmly and letting one hand drift over Jack’s stomach. He’s strong, the muscle felt beneath the skin, but his stomach isn’t defined. The course hair on his belly curls, not as pale blonde as the hair on his head.

“Come on, Gabe,” he whines, slightly breathless. His own hand settles over Gabe’s, guides it up until he’s cupping Jack’s pec.

“And do what?” It’s a low, playful murmur. He’s sliding his thumb across Jack’s nipple, watching the muscles in his stomach jump at the attention.

“You could start with kissing me?” he pants, grinds his hips up for show.

Gabe acquiesces with a low hum. He moves fluidly, grabs both of Jack’s hand to hold them above his head. Presses their bodies together so he feels it travelling through his entire body when Jack rolls his hips up to meet him.

Jack’s vocal.

Gabe doesn’t know if it comes as a surprise or not, but it certainly is welcome. He’s beautifully responsive, whining into Gabe’s mouth at every slightly new sensation, muscles tensing. When Gabe pulls back slightly, Jack instinctively lifts his chin to follow. His eyes are screwed shut, eyebrows pushed together, breath spilling hot and eager. And always the little sounds, when Gabe’s hips push down, when he moves for leverage, when his hands tighten around Jack’s wrists as he moves.

“Eager,” Gabe chides, though it doesn’t even sound teasing. The naked affection and lust shines too bright in the tone for it to be anything but adoring.

Jack just nods, hurriedly, blue eyes flashing open to flicker across Gabe’s face and torso, like he’s unsure what part to take in first. “Yes.”

His hands fly up to tighten in Gabe’s hair when the hold on his wrists relents. Keens when Gabe starts placing openmouthed kisses down his neck, lavishing attention across his chest moving downwards slowly.

Gabe smirks against his hip. The hands in his hair card through searchingly, afraid to properly hold or pull. He takes one of his hands off Jack’s hip to guide Jack to hold firmly at the side of his head. A gentle thumb brush over the side of his brow. His hand curls around Jack’s, wordlessly giving him the go-ahead to pull.

For a second, there’s an indecision to how Jack moves, not sure if he wants to haul him up for more kisses or keep him firmly in place over his twitching side. Gabe takes the decision for him, slowly moving downwards, running his tongue along the indent of his hip bone.

Jack’s hips jump, fists tightening in Gabriel’s hair as soon as he senses the intent.

Gabe chuckles darkly against his hip, one of his hands rest heavy over Jack’s thigh, fingers teasing over the edge of his pants. Jack breathes harshly, hands restless as they card through his hair. Gabe thinks he senses a denied want in there; to grab harshly and guide Gabe _down_ , stop the teasing somehow. He isn’t surprised the thought sends a shiver of excitement down his spine. It’s so like Jack, the way he pets over Gabe with fond politeness and restraint. He wants him to lose it one day, pick Gabe up and guide him wherever he wants, holds him in place while his hips work. Put all those hours spend climbing to good use.

“Shit.” Jack’s voice is frayed and weak when Gabe finally pops open the fly of his jeans, starts mouthing low at the junction between his torso and his thigh. Jack’s cock is already hard, warm through the fabric and jumping slightly when Gabe bites at the inside of his thigh.

“This okay?” Gabe pulls back slightly, stays close enough for his breath to rush over the already forming wet spot on Jack’s underwear. His voice is a raw mess, low and deep, care and want dripping thickly from each syllable.

Jack moves, his hands leaving Gabe’s hair so he can prop himself up on his elbows. The blue in his eyes is nearly gone when he looks down at Gabe. His bottom lip shines, plump and pink where he’s bitten down on it. He’s nodding already before they get eye contact, eyebrows knitting in an expression that’s almost hurt, a low, pleading whimper finding its way out. “Yes, yes.”

“Good.” He licks up the side of Jack’s still clothed dick. The thigh under his hand jumps. Jack’s responding sigh is openmouthed and broken, but his eyes stay open and locked on Gabe’s.

“Come on, baby.” His hands tighten by his sides, shoulders rising slightly.

And Gabe has never liked petnames, at least he never thought so and yet Jack’s words sends something liquid and blazing straight to the core of him. Jack must notice, there’s something knowing in the little grin he sends.

The enormity of the situation suddenly materializes above Gabe’s chest, a starburst of realization. He’s already given Jack most pieces of himself, all the little stupid, insignificant things Gabe doesn’t notice (how he likes his tea, how his mouth curls when he’s frustrated, the way his footsteps sound when he comes home after a bad day). All the things he’s picked up about Jack too over the years.

And here are all these new layers of himself, more little things to see and know. And he knows it probably won’t be that different and yet it will be all the difference in the world. _Here I am_ , he thinks. _This is how my skin feels, this is how I sound. It’s yours too_.

It settles like something heavier just below the roaring want in his chest. Jack’s chest rises and fall rapidly, he’s looking down at Gabe and his eyes stay hazy when he smiles. When he reaches out with one hand to cup Gabe’s jaw his eyes crinkle almost all the way shut with it.

Gabe nuzzles into his hand, just for a second, then steels himself through it. He can get sappy about this in twenty minutes, right now he wants to blow Jack’s brains out.

He kisses the inside of Jack’s palm. Jack makes a tiny sound, like a moaned laugh. His thumb brush frantically back and forth under Gabe’s eye when Gabe slowly, reverently, pulls his underwear down.

Jack’s breathing speeds up when Gabe’s warm breath ghosts over his naked skin. He leans in to kiss at the inside of Jack’s thigh. Teasing little things that grow progressively more filthy the farther up he goes until he’s mouthing wet, openmouthed kisses into the side of his dick, feeling the smears of precum over his cheek when it jumps.

Jack’s breathing harshly now. Even as his teeth locks around his lower lip to keep it all in, a harsh, half whimpered moan still spills out.

It’s what makes Gabe finally have mercy and lick his way up Jack’s cock, pausing at the head to messily lick at the sensitive underside.

The response is instantaneous.

“Fuck.” There’s a low thump when Jack gives up on holding himself up, falling back down to lay flat on his back. Then the low shuffling sound when he writhes against the sheets to still be able to lock eyes with Gabe as he opens his mouth and slowly takes all of him into his mouth. “Shit, babe.”

Gabe can’t help but grin, lips still spread obscenely around Jack’s cock. It’s a long, long time since he’s done this, and yet he can feel the movements coming back, meditative back and forth, tongue gliding along the underside. The addictive spike of arousal when Jack whines and babbles above him.

He can’t take him all the way, but the bubbling realization that he might get to learn to makes arousal and excitement spike so high in his chest it spills out like a muffled moan around Jack.

He pulls off him with a low pop, still close enough for the heavy cockhead to rest against his bottom lip. When his dick twitches and Jack whines, failing to suppress a weak thrust, it leaves a wet smear along Gabe’s cheek.

“Damn,” Jack breathes. His hands roam over Gabe’s head and shoulder, tighten in his hair without pulling.

Gabe closes a hand around his cock. Holds it steady as he starts back up placing chaste little kisses near the top. Jack mewls, hands growing more insistent, voice spiking high and breathy. “Gabe.”

And Gabe decides he’s had enough. He grabs at Jack’s wrist, guides him through a yank at his hair, moans filthily when Jack gets the hint and pulls him down over his cock.

He isn’t mean, isn’t demanding or too rough with him. Jack’s hips tremble as he’s still holding back from fucking up into Gabe’s mouth. But his hands are there, a guiding tug that Gabe’s happy to follow. Relax his throat around as best as he can and swivel his tongue until Jack’s hands spasm against the back of his skull.

He takes over only then, speeding up but keeping the angle where Jack wants it, suddenly fighting the pull on his hair to stay with as much of Jack in his mouth as he can manage for a couple seconds. Swallow thickly around him.

He repeats the movement a couple times, looses himself in the rhyme of it while Jack’s moans sound more and more wounded above him. His own hips grind down against the mattress every time Jack helplessly tugs at him.

Gabe doubles down, descends on his dick and stays down, bops his head slightly, tongue gliding back and forth in the same tempo. Jack makes a sound high in his throat, hurt and beautiful and breathy. Then he suddenly yanks at Gabe’s hair hard enough to pull him off. There’s something desperate to the way he heaves, the way his stomach twitches. Gabe has half a second to be almost delirious with how hot the display of strength is, then another to be miffed he won’t get to hear Jack fall apart.

“Don’t want to,” Jack’s panting harshly. “Don’t want to cum yet.” His hands stay locked at the back of Gabe’s head, the other coming to cup his cheek as he pulls Gabe up to kiss him properly.

He moans openly when their mouths press together, Gabe’s wet and raw against the soft pink on the bottom lip he’s chewed on.

“Want these off.” He’s weakly pushing down at Gabe’s pants, whining pathetically whenever Gabe tries to pull back to actually get them off. He’s holding firmly onto Gabe’s hip now, keeping as much skin on skin contact as possible between them.

Gabe laughs, low and rumbly. “I’m going to need a bit of space here.”

Jack sighs against his mouth, pouting overdramatically when he lets Gabe’s hips go to let him shimmy the pants off. He’s still running his palms along his sides though, unwilling to give up the contact completely.

When Gabe crawls back down to kiss him, now fully nude, Jack laughs. A soft little thing. His palms are warm against Gabe’s cheeks when he holds him, nuzzles their noses together. Gabe makes a pained little sound at the gesture. Jack stifles the tail end off it with a slow, sweet kiss.

“You’re my best friend, you know?” Jack says when he breaks from it. His pupils are still swallowing up his iris, skin still trembling slightly.

“You’re just trying to flatter me.” Gabe pecks him quickly on the mouth, swallows down Jack’s playful, agreeing hum.

“Going to need it?” Jack almost winks, his hips rolling up against Gabe’s. Gabe snorts at him, bumps their foreheads together.

“I think I’ll do fine,” he mumbles, rolling his hips down against Jack for show. The reaction is a confidence boost in and off itself; Jack’s head snapping back, hands starting to roam over Gabe’s shoulder.

“Fuck.” His nails dig into Gabe’s shoulder, thighs spreading to accommodate his bulk. It spurs Gabe on like nothing else, holding Jack by the side of the neck to kiss wetly against the side of his mouth, feel it viscerally when he pants. “Remind me while we didn’t do this earlier?”

Gabe grumbles noncommittally as a response, snakes a hand down to hold Jack’s hip still to grind against. One of Jack’s legs glides up, settles around Gabe’s hip to drag him close. His hands are locked on each side of Gabe’s jaw, holding him close. Their breath mingles. Gabe’s eyes flicker up to take Jack’s face in; mouth open, eyes screwed shut.

He changes the angle of Jack’s hips slightly to better grind against him. He feels it against his stomach when Jack’s cock jumps. He leans in to kiss the rough moan from Jack’s lips. There’s something building in his stomach. It tingles through his fingers, making his chest feel light and floaty. He’s pretty sure Jack feels it too, the desperate, breathy quality to his whining is starting back up again.

Jack’s fingers rasp against his cheek and he makes a low whimpering sound before he pushes Gabe off of him.

“Third drawer.” His eyes burn determined and blue.

“What?”

“I want you to top me, Gabe.” He pulls him back in to kiss him soundly, a pained sound bubbling up from low in his throat when he places a hand on Gabe’s chest and pushes him off towards the drawer.

“Oh, bossy now are we,” Gabe smirks, but detangles from Jack to start digging for supplies anyway.

“If that’s what it takes.” He’s leaning back, eyes roaming hungrily over Gabe’s back.

Gabe snorts, demonstrably rolls his eyes at Jack before turning to keep searching. He hears the sheets shift behind him. “Ah, got it.” At last, he finds the lube and condoms buried under a couple of Jack’s clean shirts. He turns to scurry back to Jack, then stops dead in his track.

Jack’s smiling like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Rolled onto his stomach, hips propped up, knees spread over the bed. He’s looking back over his shoulder, both hands firmly locked around a pillow. Like he has to keep them occupied somehow. It’s almost pornographic, and yet it feels oddly close and personal. The way Jack wags his hips and grins at Gabriel, lips turned up boyishly. It’s so like them. Gabe knows his face is morphing into something almost pained. Jack’s so beautiful it almost hurts.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, runs a hand up the back of Jack’s thigh just to feel him shudder with it. His touch is featherlight and fleeting over Jack’s skin – up his thigh, closing slowly in, ghosting across his taint. Jack sighs, head dropping and shoulders tensing.

“Stop drooling.” He pants harshly.

Gabe chuckles darkly, meanly brushes a thumb over his hole just to watch him push back against it with a stuttering moan. “But look at you,” he repeats, keeping his hand steady on Jack’s thing, dry thumb tracing featherlight around his hole. He’s not sure where to let his gaze linger, desperately trying to catch every little detail.

“Come on,” Jack whimpers, pushing back slightly.

“If you insist,” Gabe breathes, and it doesn’t sound nearly as suave as he’d liked. It doesn’t seem like Jack minds, breath immediately stuttering and speeding up when Gabe retracts to return with a slicked-up finger against him.

Gabe distantly wonders if his heart is doing the same thing.

Then he’s pushing into him. Terribly, achingly slow. This too, is something he hasn’t done in too long, but Jack nudges and guides him through it. His body responds beautifully, legs shaking and a light pink blush spreading down the upper part of his back, mouth agape letting low curses and mewls spill like rain.

It spurs Gabe on until he’s got two fingers scissoring him open easily sliding in and out. He considers eating him out, keep at it till he’s begging for it and Gabe’s beard is slick from spit and lube. But he can also feel the almost uncomfortably tight tug at his own groin, how he’s thrusting subconsciously along with his ministrations.

When he pulls his fingers out, Jack whines indignantly and chases after him. He laughs low, playfully swat at his hip to make him stay still while he rolls a condom on. Jack looks back over his shoulder, eyes shining and alert. He drops his head again to reach one hand above the shoulder and back until Gabe takes it, holds him by the hip with one hand as he starts pushing in.

He’s moving in soft little thrusts, barely even breaching him. The sight of it is almost enough to make him lightheaded. Jack is pulling at him, drawing him in closer and yet Gabe has to fight against the pull to look down at where he’s softly, slowly fucking him open.

Jack mewls, fingers tightening rhythmically in Gabe’s grip. He hisses low when Gabe pulls all the way out before slowly sinking back down.

For a while there’s only the sound of their breathing, quick and openmouthed. Then Jack gets his will, pulling Gabe down until his head is at the side of his neck, kissing him messily and openmouthed. Jack angles his head to let him slot uncoordinated kisses against the side of his open mouth.

“Gabe,” he whimpers when their hips finally meet.

Gabriel is burning. Every part of him trembling with feverish heat. He feels both much too large and too small inside his skin, like there’s something else along with him in there. Jack’s back is smooth and warm and solid against his chest.

“Gabe,” Jack mewls again and this time he starts moving too, pushing back almost imperceptibly against the dick spearing him open. The thrusts are shallow and slow, mostly their entire bodies moving in a slow back and forth. Jack releases Gabe’s hand to steady himself better against the bed to rock more firmly.

Gabe reaches around him, one hand pressed over his heart, the other still holding firmly on his hip. His teeth catch on Jack’s ear, he’s nuzzling into his hair, scratching uselessly at his skin. At all times pressing their bodies together as close as they’ll go and the arduous, heavy glide of his dick inside this beautiful, funny, incredible man sings like a low, stretched out bass note through it all.

He moves with more certainty, feeling Jack relax fully around him. It almost pains him to push off his back so he can pull out until only the head of his cock remain inside. Jack groans, almost looks like he’s about to complain, then Gabe starts the push back inside and it’s all worth it.

He’s looking down at where Jack is taking all of him so easily, hands settling on his ass to pull him open. Jack grinds forward, fighting to still hold his hips high.

“Babe,” there’s something pleading, something needy to the way he says it that makes Gabe’s head snap up.

He presses himself against his back in one long, warm line, his breath rushing over the shell of Jack’s ear.

“What do you need, love.”

It’s a daring petname to try, but it spills so easily it’s almost subconsciously from his lips and Jack instantly clamps down on him, crying out a strained ‘ _ah’._

“You.” It’s breathy and pleading.

Gabe keeps fucking into him. Tight, deep little trusts that has Jack’s entire body shaking slightly, thighs slowly falling wider.

“Babe, please,” Jack babbles on, a hand sneaking up to scratch through Gabe’s hair.

“I got you,” Gabe stutters out, kisses him soundly just below the ear a last time before he starts rolling back to sit up, pulling Jack with him by the firm hand pressed over his pec.

He only stops when Jack is sitting across his lap, thighs spread, arms raised to desperately grasp behind for Gabe.

“Yes, yes,” he’s babbling freely when Gabe embraces him and starts fucking up into him without restraint. He’s straining his neck to kiss Gabe messily, mouth lax and open. “Yes babe, yes, please.”

And it’s so mind-numbingly hot. The way Jack squirms against him, movements uncoordinated and messy, strong thighs working without any real tempo to keep up with how Gabe is hammering into him.

Jack places a hand above the one Gabe is frantically pressing in over his chest to hold him upright. Their fingers interlace, Jack’s thumb absentmindedly caressing the side of his hand. The intimacy of the gesture, the soft familiarity of it crystalizes in Gabe’s chest like something heavy and immense and then it drops like a dying star.

His orgasm hits him almost like a surprise. His limbs have buzzed softly for so long it barely feels like a change when it all spikes suddenly and white hot and his hips jump uncontrollably. Jack is blabbering against his open mouth, a blissed-out litany of _baby_ and _Gabe_ and wordless little sound dripping with adoration. Gabe buries his teeth in Jack’s shoulder, shakes with it for what feels like years.

He keeps fucking weakly into Jack until the rolling waves subside. Jack’s smiling at him when he opens his eyes, a doped, sweaty little thing that makes him even more weak in the knees than he already is.

“Stay there for me, babe,” Jack croaks and Gabe nods furiously against his back. He’s holding right to Jack’s chest, keeping him split on his softening dick while Jack’s hand goes to jerk himself off with fast, desperate movements. His head tips back against Gabe’s shoulder. Gabe sneaks a hand around his neck to hold him there and kiss at his neck. Jack falls quickly, clamping down and spasming in Gabe’s hold, mouth open and broken, breathless sounds spilling out.

Gabe’s pretty sure he hears his name in there.

Jack laughs weakly when he comes back to himself. Gabe squeezes him one last time before letting him go, slipping out of him and peeling off the condom.

He would go to throw it away, but Jack snags it from him, ties it up and carelessly throws it to the floor before wrapping both arms and legs around Gabe to pull him down.

“Gross.”

Jack kisses the wrinkle on his nose with a low chuckle. “We’ll live.” He kisses him slow and relaxed and Gabe allows himself to just take it. Jack sighs against his lips. Chuckles again, bright and joyful. His warm palm presses against Gabe’s cheek.

Gabe looks at him, really takes him in in the beginning twilight. “You’re my best friend too.” He pushes a lock of blonde hair out of his face, let his thumb trace down the side of his brown to his cheekbone through the light stubble to the corner of his mouth along his jaw.

Jack’s eyes wrinkle, he’s breathing softly through his nose, head tipping to the side. “Gabriel Reyes, if you friendzone me now I’m going to scream.”

Gabe snorts softly. “Oh, so it’s only okay when you do it?”

“Hey,” Jack tips his chin up with two fingers to peck him quickly on the lips. “I thought the context of mine was non-friendly enough for it to work.”

Gabe pokes his tongue out at him, lets a hand rest gently over his neck. “I’m so sorry this pillow talk isn’t romantic enough for you.”

Jack snorts. “It’s just perfect.” He pulls him in for yet another kiss and Gabriel Reyes gets to learn yet another thing about his best friend; that he apparently gets sleepy after sex. And cuddly (but that one he had guessed from how clingy Jack gets when watching movies). He wraps his limps around Gabe like an octopus and starts snoring softly against Gabe’s neck.

Gabe lays quietly for a while, listening to all the small sounds Jack lets out, making sure he’s sleeping soundly enough for Gabe to begin extracting himself from the embrace.

He sneaks into his pants again and walks quietly around the apartment, turning off the lights and putting away the leftovers. The snakes’ tank lights are already turned off. He looks at them for a beat. _Theirs_.

It’s all so theirs it hurts.

He’s standing in the kitchen, looking through the doorframe at their little messy living room. The affection, the lingering giddy awe that _this is real_ glows brightly in his chest, suddenly almost overwhelming.

And the excitement brightest of all. He’s spend so long worrying if he might break the thing between him and Jack he’s rarely let himself consider what it could grow into. He knows not much will change, realistically hopes it won’t.

And yet. There’s a future laying right in front of him he cannot picture clearly, but he imagines he gets to weave his fingers into Jack’s and kiss him softly and tell him sappy, sugar-sweet things that wont be half as saccharine as the fucking heart beat thing. That alone is enough to make it a future he’s desperately looking forward to seeing.

He chuckles for himself, cleans up the last bits. On his way back to the bedroom, kicking his pants back off as he’s walking, he grabs his phone from the couch and quickly types out a message to Ana.

_‘Why are you always right?’_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading this!  
> If you're in any way able, please leave a comment. This took a fair amount of time to write and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!
> 
> I worry it's like ... super, super OOC, but hey - if it is I hope it was fun either way!
> 
> Thank you again for reading - come yell at me on tumblr, the name is Nyresnuger just like the Ao3 name!


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